Letters To Robin
by gotmoreissuesthanvogue
Summary: Hannah wants to prove herself as a defense lawyer, and the perfect opportunity to do so arrives when her best friend, Lex, gets arrested for a terrorist attack. When he won't stop raving about the infamous bat vigilante in Gotham, she starts trying to figure out who Batman is. However, things will get complicated when she discovers her old lover was his sidekick . . . Post BvS. AU
1. Chapter 1

_She couldn't move._

 _Inwardly, she screamed and thrashed around in horror, praying that this nightmare was just a fiendish dream, but her body wouldn't budge. All she could do was stare at the television in horror along with her father and mother._

 _"_ _Thank god we canceled that meeting," Abraham Hochberg whispered to his wife, Lea, who nodded readily in agreement._

 _Hannah spun around helplessly, and was engulfed in a warm hug by her mother. A few tears dribbled out of her eyes, as she shook her head, trying to shake the images out of her mind._

 _"_ _What is that?" she exclaimed, heaving heavily._

 _"_ _I don't know," her mother responded gently, rubbing the back of her daughter's head._

 _Abraham started murmuring a prayer to Yahweh under his breath._

 _"_ _My god!" Lea yelled._

 _Hannah jumped out of her mother's embrace, and turned back to the TV._

 _"_ _It appears that Superman and Batman have arrived onto the scene" the announcer explained "And Superman, who was under fire for the Capitol bombing, seems to not be giving up the fight just yet."_

 _Superman floated into the air, and a millisecond later, two lasers came flying from his eyes. The monster shrieked in rage, and charged towards the Man of Steel._

 _"_ _The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want," Leah started "He makes my lie down in green pastures, he leads me besides still waters, he restores my soul."_

 _Suddenly, the figure of a young woman appeared on the TV. She stood up erect like a queen, with her brown locks flowing down her neck. In her hand, she grasped a sword, which she held high over her head when she charged towards the raging beast in the center of the desecrated city._

 _"_ _Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil," Lea continued, clasping her hands over her chest._

 _Hannah heard the words faintly echoing through the room, and she laughed to herself._

 _Evil is strong, and almost undefeatable. Refusing to fear evil was impossible, a feat that was too much of Yahweh to ask of her. Especially since the world had been changing so much the last few years._

 _Aliens arrived from Krypton, a planet so far away which the smartest scientists couldn't see and the greatest machinery couldn't reach. Crime spiked in Gotham, even with the bat vigilante desperately trying to bring it to a halt. Metropolis crumbled, and was crumbling once again._

 _As Hannah watched her parents plead with Yahweh, their God, something inside of her burned. She should be praying for all the people whose lives were being destroyed at the hands of a seething, raging monster that appeared to be going nuclear._

 _It was hard to pray though! Especially since a God her parents said was all seeing and all loving let all these tragic things take place._

 _Especially when he died the way he did._

 _Yahweh let the world turn upside down again._

 _And all Hannah could do was watch._

Superman died to save the world.

When those words rang through Hannah's ears, she hesitated.

Yes, the Man of Steel did so much to help everyone around him, but Metropolis collapsed twice at his hand. He aided the Batman vigilante, and a new hero, who the media was referring to as Wonder Woman. In the end, he impaled the monster with a spear made of Kryptonite, which weakened him in the process. No one was sure what happened next.

The world mourned for him. Hannah watched his televised funeral in silent grief. Not for his sake, but for the sake of the world, one that was changing every time it spun around the sun. She grieved for the old days that passed away into history, a small fragment of when things appeared so much simpler.

When she was younger, people who believed in aliens were crazy, considered by most to be quietly losing their sanity over impossible theories and conspiracies. She distinctly remembered hearing about a group of 'alien fanatics' claiming that Jesus Christ was an alien. After all, he was not from this world, they insisted.

Now, with all-powerful "gods" looming in the sky, saying that aliens was just something invented by the discontent made you insane.

That didn't mean you had to like the truth . . .

Still, without Superman, people didn't know who would take his place. People argued that without Superman, the disasters that followed in his wake would stop occurring.

Everyone was panicked though, regardless of what one truly believed. The only thing that was discussed on the news stations was whether the tragedies that destroyed cities would keep taking place. Other news often fell to the sidelines, recognized by very few people.

Hannah shifted her position on the couch, and frowned. She clicked the refresh button on her computer screen.

 _Damn the internet!_

As she waited for the web page to load again, she dropped her head back, and stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes examined every detail of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The muffled voices coming from the TV discussed Superman quietly.

Ever since she graduated from Harvard Law School in the spring, Hannah had been reduced to doing research for big shot lawyers in a cramped up firm in Gotham.

It drove her crazy.

Yes, she knew it'd be a while before she'd be able to get her hands on an actual case for her to defend, but she desperately wanted to do something more than glorified secretarial work.

"It takes time, sweetie," her Mom, Lea, explained when Hannah complained to her "You have to get experience before they put you in charge of a case."

"I'm a Harvard Law graduate," Hannah shot back, brushing a strand of curly brown hair out of her face "That alone should be enough experience. Besides, I think I could crush some of those bitching lawyers I'm doing secretary work for!"

"Patience, darling, patience."

Despite her insistence that she could do better than her superiors, Hannah didn't complain to them. She did her work, hoping that one of them would see something special in her, and give her the chance she needed to prover herself.

The web page finally loaded, and Hannah sighed with relief.

 _It's about damn time!_

She scrolled through the web site, and when she reached the bottom, she clicked on a link. Several images popped up, making Hannah grin in delight. In the image was a picture of a middle aged man with a few wispy strands of blonde hair, and large, pouty lips. One his lap sat an insanely thin woman with bleach blonde hair, who had her arms draped around his neck.

 _Hah._

In this particular case, they were trying to prosecute a man that supposedly murdered his wife with a steak knife. His reason? An affair, which he readily denied.

Maybe he wouldn't be denying it for much longer.

Hannah clicked on the picture, downloading it to her laptop. After typing a quick email to her boss, she sent it to him, a small smile on her lips.

Listening to the satisfied _whoosh_ confirming that the email had been sent, she closed her laptop, and raised her hands above her head to stretch. She groaned in relief, wiggling her toes.

Tucking her laptop under her arm, her stood up, and walked towards the kitchen. She looked up one last time at the chandelier. Brushing her fingers over the side of the couch, she headed towards the ornate entry way that lead into the study she'd been working in. As she headed down the hall, she stared at each picture displayed prominently on the wall. She stopped at one of her mother holding her just after she'd been born. The smile on her face was so bright, so joyous, it warmed Hannah's heart. Next to that picture was one of a young teenager, sitting in a hospital chair, holding her in his arms. She snickered when she looked at his face; unimpressed, and somewhat sad. Behind him stood an older man, maybe in his late thirties, frowning at the child, almost saying "If you drop that baby, I'll kill you." Hannah shook her head, and continued.

Once in the kitchen, she was greeted by a flustered maid.

"Hi Jane!" Hannah called, pulling out a barstool at the marble island in the center of the kitchen.

Jane smiled brightly, and went back to the sink, where she'd been loading a dishwasher.

Hannah set her lap top down, and grabbed a kettle from the pill of dirty dishes, and poured some water into it.

"Shall I clean the kettle first, Miss. Hochberg?"

"It's alright, Jane. It's just water."

She set the kettle on the stove, and turned the knob up to high. Jane grabbed out a package of chair tea, and handed it to Hannah, who smiled gratefully.

"How is your work going, Miss?"

"Good. Good!"

"You don't sound convinced ma'am."

"Well—"

Hannah's cell phone buzzed. She smiled apologetically at Jane, who nodded forgivingly. Lifting the phone to her ear, Hannah frowned. She hadn't recognized the number.

"Hello?"

"Hannah? Hannah?"

"Who is this?"

"I'd think you'd recognize your best friend's voice!"

"Wh—what? Wait—Lex? Where are you? Why are you calling me from some random number?"

Hannah bit her lip, waiting for an answer.

There was silence.

"I'm at the police station. I've been arrested," the voice on the other end finally whispered.

"What do you mean arrested?" Hannah exclaimed "What for?"

"I—I need you to come to the station. Right now."

"O—Of course! Anything, but I don't understand, Lex!"

She could hear Lex breathing heavily on the other end of the line, something he did only when he was scared.

And Lex Luthor was never scared.

"Tell me what's going on!"

Silence.

"Lex?"

"Too many ears, Hannah. Too many! I—I can't let them hear me!"

Lex stumbled over his words, as if he was learning how to speak for the first time. This wasn't at all like the smooth talking Lex Luthor she'd know since she was a baby . . . This person talking to her was new; scared and unsure of himself.

"I'm on my way, Lex. It'll take a while though. I'm at the town house in Gotham—"

"The guard is coming, Hannah! He's coming! I have to go. Please hurry. I—"

A quick click resounded through the line, indicating that Lex had hung up. Hannah rubbed her forehead, her mind spinning from what she'd just heard.

 _Lex? Arrested? I don't understand!_

"Miss. Hannah? Miss?"

Hannah's head shot up to see Jane, standing in front of her, a look of concern on her face.

"Oh—Uh—Tell Mom and Dad I'm going to Gotham, okay? I don't know when I'll be back, but don't tell them that."

Jane nodded quickly.

With that, Hannah snatched her laptop of the island, and sprinted towards he bedroom on the other side of the manor. Her mind flopped over and over in her brain, making her lose her footing. As she hit the ground, she lifted her laptop over her head, preventing it from touching the ground. She jumped back up, and once she made it to her bedroom, grabbed a pair of black flats, and her purse.

With that, she headed towards the garage, where her Porsche was waiting.

Something bad was happening.

Something bad was happening to her best friend.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter of Letters To Robin! I really appreciate you taking the time to check it out!**

 **For those of you that are wondering, this does take place after Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice, but I'll be adding some characters that aren't in the DC Cinematic Universe (Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance etc.)**

 **Also, this story isn't about the forming of the Justice League. Some of its members will show up, and you might see some glimpses of it, but that's not the main point of the story. Sorry guys, no Darkseid!**

 **Please do not hesitate to follow/favorite/review. Things like that motivate me to write, so if you want more, say hello in the comments.**

 **I'll try to publish a new chapter once a week, but no promises because school is starting soon, and I am writing a few other stories also.**

 **Once again, thank you!**

 **Much love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Jason,_

 _I wish I could fully explain how much I miss you. It's hard to believe it's been six years since I last saw you. You were pretending to be happy, but I knew something was off. I wish you would've told me about the gang you were involved with. Maybe if I had known, you'd still be alive and here with me today. We can't dwell on the past though, can we? You always said it was up to one's self to forge their own future, and that's what I'm trying to do. That doesn't make it not hard though, especially with all these people around me that refuse to give me a chance. I practically solved a case today, and I didn't get any thanks. Of course I didn't! I'm just the stupid lackey to them._

 _Something bad has happened to Lex. Yeah, I know. Quick change of subject. He called me from prison, and wouldn't tell me why he got arrested. I know he knows why though because he's Lex, and Lex wouldn't let anything happen to himself without a reason. He's not a criminal, so he must be there for some strange misunderstanding. I'm sure he'll be released when I arrive, and he explains what happens. Still, he sounded so scared when I talked to him . . . Very un-Lex._

 _In case you're wondering, Bruce is doing okay. He's the same brooding, sulky self that he was before. He seems really sad, but he should be fine, especially with the amount of sex he gets in a week. Yes, you're right. I am totally rolling my eyes right now!_

 _I wish you were here, Jason! Things never seemed impossible when you were around. That cheeky grin of yours always gave me something to smile about. Sadly, there isn't much to smile about these days. Superman, our national hero, died when that thing tried to destroy Metropolis and Gotham. Did you know crime has spiked in Gotham? Even with Batman out there, branding all his victims. Part of me thinks it's because Gotham's population in poverty has grown larger and larger over the last few years. If we cleared some of it up, I'm sure the crime rate would lower at least a little bit. That's why I wanted to be a lawyer . . . So that I could help these people, defending the ones that just simply need a little help getting back onto their feet._

 _I love you, Jason . . . I always will. Somewhere in Heaven, I know you still love me. Don't you?_

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

It was a miracle Hannah didn't get pulled over.

She pressed down on the gas pedal of her Porsche, going twice as fast as the speed limit allowed. Maybe she didn't get busted because all the cops were busy with all the cases that sprung up after the incident.

Hannah breathed in deeply, her hands clinching the steering wheel.

Images of her best friend, sitting in a cell, crossed through her mind. She shuddered. When Hannah and Lex were little, she often defending him from bullies and other people that tried to mess around with him. Lex never cared about his physical appearance not did Hannah, but that didn't change the fact Lex was weak. Although Lex would never tell anyone he did this, he'd cry if he got hurt. Not loudly, of course, but silently, as if he was trying to hold the pain in.

He'd also get cold easily, so Hannah learned to keep one of his jackets in her car whenever they'd go on a spur of the moment rides through New York's country side or camp out on the roof of LexCorp so they could stare up at the stars.

They'd been friends for as long as Hannah could remember.

When they were children, they would often play together while their nannys chattered away about whatever gossip was circulating through the house hold. They both had high aspirations for their life, so they got a long pretty well.

Hannah listened to Lex for hours when he went on and on about whatever scientific or technological discovery he recently had made, and he did the same for her when it came to economics. Their nerdiness complimented each other, and gave them the patience to put up with their sometimes eccentric behavior.

That didn't mean that they never fought.

Lex could be extremely arrogant and cocky, and Hannah often wore a chip on her shoulder. If Hannah though Lex was wrong, they could go hours without talking to each other. Sometimes, Hannah and Lex tried to go days without communication, but it would never work. After a few hours, they'd apologize, trying to take all the blame from each other. Finally, they would agree to split it.

When his father died, Lex was determined to take multi-billion dollar company under his wings, and Hannah supported that, even when a few executive frowned disapprovingly over the scrawny young man's leadership.

"You has six college degrees, and could probably get another ten," Hannah exclaimed when Lex told her about LexCorp's board and their complaints.

Lex shrugged, a small smile on his thing lips. He knew the company was his, even with the accusations of being too young. They were simply small-minded, unable to fathom how a young person could be stronger and more knowledgeable than them. Lex adamantly believed that the generation he was in consisted of the world changers, despite all the claims they were just stuffy, media-obsessed millennials.

"How are you so calm?" she huffed, putting her hands on her lips.

Lex laughed.

"Hannah, passionate and convicted! Very admirable!"

Lex and Hannah could be themselves around each other, which made their friendship something to be envied.

"If I don't find a special someone by the time I'm forty, can I marry you so we can live together and watch Star Trek all night?" Hannah once asked.

"Sure," Lex replied "But I highly doubt you will still be on the market by the time you're forty."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really. Do you want me to do the math?"

Hannah laughed to herself at the memory of Lex scribbling down formulas for love on a napkin in the middle of an Olive Garden. The smile soon disappeared when she arrived at the police station. Jumping out of her sleek black Porsche, she ran up the cold, stone steps to the entry way.

Dark shadows were cast every which way in front of the dark and dirty building. A police car was parked out front, and two officers, who had arrived in the car, were struggling to get an angry woman through the doors of the station. Two painters were covering up some graffiti that had been put on the building the night before. Hannah shivered at the bright red words: God is dead, and has been replaced by the devil.

She could only wonder who the writer was referring to when he decorated the police station, but images of the bat vigilante, the Dark Knight, ran through her head. Slipping inside of the station, she dashed towards the front desk, where a short yet muscular woman was sitting. She wore the Gotham City police uniform, and had a walkie talkie attached to her belt.

"Uh, hi," Hannah managed, trying to catch her breath.

The woman raised an eyebrow curiously.

"How can I help you, Miss?"

"I'm here to see someone whom you have detain . . . A Mr. Alexander Luthor?"

The woman stared at her incredulously.

"Alexander Luthor?" she repeated, as if she didn't believe her.

"Yes ma'am. My name is Hannah Hochberg, and he called me. I'm his legal consultant."

"Just a minute, please."

The woman jumped up from her seat, and went through the open door behind the desk. She spoke to a tall man, who Hannah could tell was the Commissioner by all the badged on his uniform. Hannah watched them talk to each other for a few seconds, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to take deep breaths to calm her nerves.

She gazed longingly down the hall way, which led to the holding area.

Lex was in there somewhere.

"Miss?"

Hannah's head, which had drooped a little bit during her train of thought, shot up. In front of her stood the Commissioner, who was a kind looking man, although he had a prominent frown across his face.

"I'm Commissioner Gordon, ma'am. I hear you want to see Mr. Luthor?"

"Uh, yes sir. I'm his lawyer."

"Ah, I see. May I see your I.D.?"

Hannah nodded, and pulled her wallet out of her bag. She pulled out her I.D., and handed it to him. Commissioner Gordon inspected it for a few seconds, then handed it back to her.

"I'll need you to sign this," he said, holding out a clip board and a pen.

Hannah seized it, scribbling her name down on the pad.

"You can give your things to Deputy Matthews," he added, gesturing to the deputy who got him.

Handing her things to Deputy Matthews, Hannah stood up straight, trying to look like this was something she did every day. This was the first time she ever went to visit a defendant, but she didn't want everyone to figure that out.

"Follow me," Commissioner Gordon exclaimed.

He led Hannah towards the security center, and had her go through the machine.

"All clear!"

"Thank you."

"Please come this way."

They walked down the hall in silence. Hannah glanced at him every so often to see if his countenance had changed.

"So, I take it you haven't been a lawyer for long?"

"Why'd you say that?"

"You seem very young."

"I am young," Hannah snapped, rolling her eyes.

Commissioner Gordon sighed. They reached a door, where a security guard was waiting.

"Please take Miss. Hochberg to see Mr. Luthor."

The guard seemed a taken back, but nodded slowly. He gestured for Hannah to follow him.

The holding area at the Gotham Police station wasn't pleasant. It was just like the movies, cold, ultra clean, and filled with depressed looking men and women peering out the windows. Hannah eyed them all as she walked by, imaging what got these people in here in the first place. A feeling of sorrow coursed through her body because some of these people might have avoided this place if not for the fact they were homeless and hungry. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Here you are, Miss."

The guard opened a door in the back of the hall way, and led her into a room. Situated in the middle was a table, bolted down to the ground. On either side sat two metal chairs which also had bolts keeping them on the floor. Hannah walked over to one of them, and sat down in one of the chairs. She flinched as the cold metal contacted her body.

There was silence.

Scratching behind his ear, the guard left the room, leaving Hannah to sit there alone. She tapped her fingers onto the table mindlessly, and tried to distract her brain. It was extremely cold, causing goosebumps to develop all over her arms.

Suddenly, the door crashed against the wall as the guard held the door open for Lex. Hannah jumped to her feet.

Lex looked terrible. His long, redish-blonde hair fell down his shoulders, matted and tangled. To Hannah, it looked as if he tore his fingers through the long locks in a rage.

"Lex!"

The guard sat Lex down in the chair, and cuffed him to the table. With that, he disappeared out the door.

Hannah reached out, and put her hand over his hands. To her astonishment, they were trembling.

"Lex? Talk to me."

Lex, who had been staring at his hands, looked up and gazed straight into her eyes.

"Hannah."

"Yeah, it's me."

Hannah squeezed his hands tightly, trying to comfort him.

"They've seen us, Hannah. They've _seen_ us."

"Who's seen us?"

Lex looked up at the ceiling.

"I wish I could."

He lifted his hands from the table, but set them back down after remembering that his hands were cuffed to the table.

"Why can't you tell me, Lex? You tell me everything else."

Desperately trying to keep her voice calm, Hannah leaned forward.

"Look at me, Lex. Why are you here?"

Lex laughed bitterly, and attempted to lean back in his chair.

"The capitol explosion."

"What?"

"My god, Hannah! Did you not just hear me?"

"But you didn't do it, Lex. Y—you couldn't have!"

Lex stared at her, his face void of emotion. Hannah started to shake, as her mind started to question what she thought she knew. Although his face was blank, something in his eyes gave it away . . . something sad, something filled with regret.

"Oh Lex," Hannah whispered.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she tried to hold them in.

Everything she knew seemed to be disappearing into the fog. Her best friend seemed to be a different person than she thought he was. This was someone she'd known for years and years. This was someone that she considered her best friend, one that told her everything and shared his dreams with her. He wanted to make the world a better place, not tear it apart.

Still, something in his eyes made it seem he didn't want it to come to this; he wanted there to be another way. Whatever his reasoning was, he must have been desperate, so desperate that he found the strength to kill hundreds of people in a second.

If he was desperate and had some kind of a reason, maybe she could help him though. Of course it didn't justify his actions, but maybe . . . just maybe she could get him off.

He didn't deserve to be in jail, right?

The question was, who was this "he" and why had "he" seen us?

"The bat," Lex said, his voice raspy.

"What?"

"The Bat of Gotham."

"The bat vigilante? What does that mean?"

Lex shook his head, trying to get a strand of his hair out of his face. He banged his fingers on the table, a sign that he was worried.

"What about Batman?"

"He knows," Lex murmured "He knows what's wrong!"

"Batman knows what's wrong," Hannah repeated.

"J—Jason too. Jason knew too."

Hannah's heart dropped, a sickly feeling bubbling in her stomach.

Of course Lex knew about Jason! He was her best friend, but Jason was dead, and had been for six years. All the painful memories came flooding back into her brain, ones that she tried to forget for so long.

Images of his face flashed before her eyes.

Dark brown hair and shining hazel eyes. A wicked smile spreading across his handsome face.

Her heart ached at the memory of his face.

"Jason knew? Jason knew about what?"

Lex smiled to himself, and started to shake his head again.

"My god, Lex! If you know something, tell me!"

"No."

"I don't understand! How can I help you of you don't tell me what happened?"

"I don't want him to hurt you, Hannah. I'll never forgive myself if he does."

"Big girl here, Lex. I can take care of myself."

"Maybe . . . Maybe you can, but it's much too risky. You will never understand what we're dealing with."

What was she dealing with?

A government conspiracy? Something that had to do with weapons? He did mention the Batman, a vigilante that protected the people of Gotham by night. Maybe it had something to do with the vigilantes like Superman, The Arrow from Central City, and yes, Batman.

Lex continued banging his fingers on the table, and Hannah watched them fly up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down.

"I want you to know that I'm going to do everything in my power to help you get out of this mess. Capitol explosions or not. Batman or not. Okay?"

"Okay. Fine. Excellent."

Hannah groaned, and squeezed his hand again. Lex squeezed her hand back until her fingers turned white.

"Don't be scared, Lex. Please don't be scared."

"You think I'm scared of prison, Hannah? I'm not."

"Do you want to plead guilty at your trial?"

Lex sighed.

"No, N—no. I don't."

"Then you must be scared!"

"That's not it. That's not it. I am one of the only people on this planet that—that knows . . . I—I can't stop it if I'm in prison. I—I—I—"

"I'll get you out of here, Lex, I swear. Do we have a deal?"

Lex nodded slowly, looking straight into her eyes. Something in his eyes told her that although everything was turning upside down, he'd stand by her. He assured her that he cared for her and that they'd always be best friends. Nothing would get in the way that.

No conspiracy.

No weapons.

No aliens.

No vigilantes.

"Miss?"

The guard was standing at the door.

"Your time is up."

"Of course. Thank you."

Hannah stood up, and brushed off her pants.

"Goodbye, Miss Hochberg," Lex exclaimed, banging his fists on the table.

He seemed like he just lost another thread of his sanity, which made her heart ache.

"Batman, batman, batman," he muttered over and over again.

"Goodbye, Mr. Luthor," Hannah whispered.

She walked out of the room, glancing over her shoulder one last time. His forehead was pressed to the cool surface of the metal table, and his fingers were tapping.

They walked back through the hallways, and she tried to ignore all the sad, helpless looking people that peered at her through the bars. She reached the front desk, and grabbed the clip board and signed out.

"Here is your purse, Miss," the lady at the front desk said, handing her the bag.

"Thank you so much."

The lady smiled sympathetically.

She walked out of the Gotham police station, her heart thudding dully in her chest. Her conversation with Lex hadn't helped at all, except for the fact she now knew he committed an act of terrorism.

She also knew that Batman had answers to whatever was going on.

"I need to find him," she whispered to herself, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand "I need to find Batman."

As she opened the door of her Porsche, a picture fluttered out of the car, and onto the pavement. When she stooped to pick it up, she flipped it over.

It was Jason.

A sad smile crept across her face, and she sighed.

 _Why aren't you here, Jason?_ she thought _Damn it! Why aren't you here?_

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Everyone! Thank you for reading Chapter Two! As you can see, it opened up with a letter to her old beau, Jason Todd. Most chapter will have a letter to him recapping the last chapter, hence the title "Letters To Robin."**

 **Aurora Nightstar- Haha! You were right!**

 **Love. Fiction. 2016- As you just read, she had a thing with Jason Todd. There might be someone who's into her, but you'll just have to wait and see. :p**

 **SprinklesOfFun- Hey look! It's my little sister! Thanks for the review, Adah! 3**

 **Lady-Hufflepuff-92 - There will be several heroes appearing, and yes, she gets mixed up with a lot of them. :)**

 **Next Chapter, I will be introducing Bruce Wayne! Yay! Of course, he isn't too pleased that Hannah is going to defend Lex in the court of law, so you'll have to wait and see how all of that goes down.**

 **Once again, thank you for reading and please follow/favorite/review! It's those things that motivate me!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Jason,_

 _I can't believe what's happening. I can't. This is all too much for me to take in . . . My best friend is a murderer! He's a terrorist. Of all the issues Lex has struggled with since the beginning of his life I've known, and violence was never one of them. He must have been lying to me, covering something up. I can't believe I didn't see that this was going on . . . I didn't notice something changing about him._

 _What do you think, Jason? What would you say to this? What would you say to me? Have you ever felt so backstabbed that you felt sick in your stomach? That you wanted to scream so loudly that everyone in the universe could hear you? Because that's how I feel now . . ._

 _Who can I tell, Jason? You're not here!_ _You were selfish enough to get caught up in that stupid gang!_ _Why aren't you here? I can't tell Mom that I know the truth! I can't tell her I am going to defend someone I know is guilty._

 _When I looked into his eyes, I knew he did it. There wasn't a question. You know how we could just look at each other, and know what we were thinking. The same thing happened when I visited him at the Gotham Police Station._

 _He seemed so lonely though, so sad. It didn't seem like he regretted what did, but it seemed like he didn't want it to setting up explosions in the Capitol building. Hah! I'm laughing at the thought of that._

 _Please don't get angry at me for defending him. He's my best friend, the only living person that understand me. I can't bear to imagine you frowning at me because of this decision. Part of my heart believes that you'll still love me after this._

 _Look at me! Talking to you like you're still alive! I swear, I might be going crazy. I wanted the chance to prove myself. I really did. However, this isn't the way I wanted it to be!_

 _I'm sorry! This letter makes no sense. I'm re-reading the lines, and it's rambely and awkward. You get that though. You always got that side of me, so I am praying that you will understand what I'm writing down._

 _Jason, please come back! Please._

 _Damn. Sorry for the smudged ink, but I can't stop crying right now. Oh, this is not who I am supposed to be. I should pull myself together. I'm so sorry._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

Hannah read through all the evidence that led to Lex's arrest quickly, and sighed. It was pretty damning, so she'd be over her head defending her friend. Still, she was determined to find some kind of a loop hole that would help her decrease his sentence or get him off all together.

Sadly, there wasn't much of anything that could help her.

She banged her desk in frustration, trying to get her brain to work faster. Her mind swirled around and around, and pulled part everything she'd read. There was no solution!

Finally, after sitting at her desk for hours, she jumped up and headed towards her bathroom. As thee warm water flowed down her body, she sighed deeply, and tried to control her breathing. Ever since she got the phone call from the prison, her heart had been racing so fast that she could hardly sit still.

"Calm down, Hannah, Calm down!" she told herself.

Her breath hitched again, and she ran her fingers through her wet hair. Tears started to run down her cheeks, mixing with the hot water of the shower. Confusion bubbled up inside of her, screaming and raging like a mad bull. Finally, she banged on the tiled shower wall in ager, letting all of the emotions cooped up inside fall out. She sat down on the floor of the shower, and let the warm water hit her back, allowing her to relax. A sense of sleepiness floated over her.

"Hannah?" a voice called, opening the door of the bathroom.

"Yeah?"

Hannah grabbed onto the shower faucet, and pulled herself back to her feet. She peeked out, pulling the shower curtain around her body. There stood her Mother, Lea. Lea Hochberg was a shrewd business woman, but a loving mother that was always there for Hannah when she needed her. Her chocolate brown hair streaked with gray suggested that she was getting older, but magnified her wisdom and the beauty Hannah saw in her.

"Mom!"

"Hey Honey," Lea replied, taking off her glasses and rubbing them on her blouse. "I just wanted to remind you about the Gala tonight. You should probably start getting ready."

"Gala, right," Hannah murmured, pushing a strand of wet hair out of her face "I'll be right out."

"I'll send Eden up to help you with your hair. Okay, honey?"

"Perfect. Thank you, Mama!"

Hannah smiled a bright, yet fake smile at her Mom, who smiled back and left. Once she was gone, Hannah jumped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel off the rack. Wrapping it around her body, she snatched a hair brush off the sink, and headed towards her bedroom.

As soon as she entered her room, she looked up to see Eden plugging the flat iron into the electrical socket on the wall.

"Hello Miss. Hannah!" The happy young woman exclaimed.

She hustled over to the bed, and grabbed a navy blue bathrobe with two embroidered H s on the pocket. Hannah smiled gratefully, and pulled it over her still wet body. Tying it around her waist, she walked over to the stool in front of the vanity where Eden was setting a few bottles of hair gel.

"Are you excited, Miss. Hannah?" Eden asked, taking the brush out of Hannah's hand.

"Sort of. I actually forgot about it until my Mom reminded me."

"Ah, I see. It is for a very good cause though."

"Rich guys getting dunk, and donating money to an orphanage. It's nice and all, I guess, but I think that there is so much more that can be done than just that."

Eden didn't reply, but pulled the brush through Hannah's thick hair.

"I'm sorry, Eden. Maybe I'm just not in the mood for a gala."

Eden smiled sweetly, and grabbed the bottle of gel, and squeezed some onto her hand. She massaged it through Hannah's hair.

"I'm sure it'll be fun. You have a beautiful dress and you'll be able to see your friend Mr. Wayne again."

"Mmm . . . He is a friend of my Dad's, so I guess you could call him my friend."

She bit her lip slowly, and tried to keep a straight face.

The thing is, Bruce Wayne, the Gotham billionaire, was Jason's adoptive father. He took in the poor, orphaned Jason Todd when he was around ten years. Hannah had heard of him but didn't meet him till she was twenty.

When she first walked into the Wayne Manor and saw Jason sitting on the couch, reading through a copy of a Time magazine, her heart stopped.

He was the handsomest guy she'd ever seen.

She remembered gulping, trying to keep her heart from beating rapidly in her chest. When he looked up though, all precaution she had threw itself out the window. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

As she gazed into his eyes, she couldn't decide whether they were blue or green, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that something was happening in between them, and she didn't want it to stop.

When Bruce walked in, she could barely greet him, her mind was son focused on his ward. In hindsight, she thought he probably noticed what a daze she was in, but chose not to say anything about. Something inside of her thought she might have a brief memory of him being slightly annoyed over the connection being made, but she couldn't determine whether it was a false memory or not.

"You will feel better once you are there for a little bit, Miss. Hannah. People like you are born for fancy parties and galas."

Hannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. All because she was born into a wealthy family of oil tycoons didn't mean she enjoyed the consistently glamorous lifestyle . . . That was one of the reasons she decided to become a lawyer; she wanted to see the grittier part of life that required more than money to save the day.

She wished she could explain to Eden that it wasn't the fact she simply wasn't in the mood for glitz that made her not want to go. The ever-looming situation with Lex kept tugging on her mind, as much as she wanted it to disappear. To Hannah, going to a gala in a fancy dress seemed so stupid to her, especially when the world outside was a step away from complete chaos.

Hannah sat and let Eden finish her hair and makeup, twitching impatiently for the process to be over. Finally, when the excited Eden stepped back, Hannah stared into the mirror, unsure of what to think.

Her thick brown hair was pinned up in a neat bun on the nape of her neck, a stylish yet simple hair-do. Hannah was also relieved that her makeup wasn't extravagant like some of the giddy, annoying socialites that she was used to attending these events with. It was natural and tasteful, something which she was grateful for.

"I laid your dress out on your bed for you, Miss. Hannah. Please call me if you need anything at all," Eden told the young woman sweetly, sticking one last bobby pin into her hair.

"Thank you so much."

Eden left, leaving Hannah all alone. She inspected her face once again.

Six hours.

Six hours since she had last seen Lex.

Images of him floated through her head, images of him terrified, and unwilling to tell her what exactly was happening. She thought back on what he said about the batman and Jason . . . It didn't make much sense to her, but she knew she'd have to find something. Whatever he was saying held the key to cracking this case.

She sighed, and walked over to her bed, where the dress was draped across her bed. Fingering the hem, she frowned, quickly calculating how long she'd have to stay at the gala without getting the tabloids frisky.

Finally, she grabbed the dressed, and pulled it over her body. As it fell around her, she smoothed it out. It certainly was beautiful. She'd have to thank Michael Kors for it later.

"Hannah, how are you? You look amazing!"

Hannah smiled happily, and grabbed Oliver Queen's hand.

"Ollie! It's awesome to see you again!"

Oliver Queen smiled back at his friend, and took her hand readily. It had been a few months since Hannah visited his family in Star City. Whenever she came, he and his girlfriend Dinah enjoyed the lawyer's company. He even once considered hiring her to work at Queens Consolidated, but was gently rebuffed. She wasn't interested in that type of law; she wanted to get out there in court, defending the common people, not the ones who had plenty of lawyers at their disposal already. When she explained this to Oliver (kindly of course,) he laughed, and totally understood where the girl was coming from.

"Where's Dinah?"

"She went to grab some champagne."

Hannah chuckled to herself. Dinah always lived a good drink, and sometimes, while they were hanging out in Oliver's town house, she'd get a little tipsy, and a few laughs would definitely follow.

"Hah, looks like Bruce has got himself another girl toy," Oliver murmured, resisting the urge to laugh.

Hannah managed a big smile, despite the fact she couldn't care less.

"Really? Where?"

Oliver pointed over to Bruce, who was standing next to a tall, beautiful woman that Hannah didn't recognize. She certainly was gorgeous with her dark brown hair falling down her neck, and her dark brown eyes sparkling mysteriously. Her dress was also quite ravishing, which made Hannah sure that she would be catching the eyes of several of the men present.

Bruce himself looked pretty happy. He was talking to a rich business man from Central City, and the conversation seemed fairly entertaining because Bruce laughed a couple of times. His companion however, didn't seem as amused. She smiled once or twice, and nodded graciously. Her eyes seemed calculating though, taking in every detail of the room they were in. She eyed the group of people slow dancing, a small frown crossing her face. Finally, she leaned over to Bruce, and whispered something to him. His brow creased slightly, and he nodded, whispering something back. The woman left, heading towards one of the exits.

That was strange. Usually, Bruce's dates were over the top and flirty, not calm and serious.

"Oh my god! I'm actually caring about Bruce's latest date," Hannah whispered to Oliver, who laughed and shook his head, amused.

"Well, maybe he found a girl that'll make him grow up a bit in the relationship area . . . I'm going to go find Dinah. It was wonderful seeing you again, Hannah."

"You too, Ollie."

Hannah smiled, and Oliver stepped away.

She scanned the room, looking for a familiar faces. Quickly, she identified several rich, and pretentious snobs that her parents were friends and business partners with.

"Hannah?"

She spun around, stumbling into whoever called her name. The man caught her, preventing her from tripping over her long dress.

"I see you haven't gotten any lighter on your feet."

"Hi Bruce."

"You look wonderful!"

"Well, you're not the first person to say that."

Hannah shifted from one foot to the other as Bruce chuckled to himself. She didn't want to come across as rude, but ever since Jason died, it was hard to talk to the man. Of course she had nothing against him, but memories are a powerful thing, and often control whom one wants to spend a great amount of time with.

"You interested in a dance?" Bruce asked, holding out his hand.

"Are you trying to make me trip again?" Hannah scoffed, smoothing out her dress.

"Maybe."

Hannah sighed, and took his hand. At least Bruce wasn't impossible like some of the other people present.

"Won't your date care if she sees you dancing with me?"

"Diana? I don't think so. I think she'll allow me to dance with an old friend."

She put her hand on his shoulder, and allowed him to put his hand on her waist. As the started swaying to the song, Hannah tried to think of something to say. One thing she hated was dancing in silence, awkwardly staring at each other until the song was over.

"So, how's everything going at Wayne Enterprises?"

Bruce laughed.

"Good. Good. How's work going for you?"

"Good, I guess. I just got a new case today."

She quickly bit her lip, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. Of course he was going to ask a question, and she'd have to figure out a way to change the subject.

"Oh really? So you've finally moved past secretary work?"

"It wasn't secretary work, and—"

"What's the case about?"

Hannah smiled, trying to stall. She had to think of something to say.

"Oh, you know, a client did something bad, and I'm going to have to get him out of it."

"That's not very specific."

"Sorry."

"Come on, tell me what the case is about."

Something about the way he asked made her feel uneasy. It wasn't like he was joking; he was dead serious. He wanted to know. An inkling of a thought suggested he knew something about the case already . . .

Of course he knew about Lex's arrest. It had been all over the news, but nothing about her being his lawyer had been announced just yet.

His eyes narrowed, and just for a second, the same calculating look she saw in his date's eyes appeared in his.

"I'm going to be helping Lex with his upcoming trial," Hannah blurted out.

Bruce stared at her silently for a few seconds, tell-tale signs of disappointment crossing his face.

"You, um, can't tell anyone just yet. I'll have to write a statement and Lex will—"

"I know how to keep a secret."

"Oh thanks, I was—"

Bruce suddenly jerked her close to him, until they were cheek to cheek. The musky smell of cologne surrounded him, making Hannah feel a little dizzy. She never liked perfumes and colognes because it made her feel a little queasy.

"Are you insane?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Um, yes?"

"He's a murder Lex. He killed several people. He—He killed—"

"He's innocent until proven guilty."

"Someone else can do this dirty work, Hannah. Not you."

"He's my best friend."

"He shouldn't be after what he did."

"This is what I wanted to do, defend people. I thought you knew that!"

"Helpless people, Hannah. Not criminals."

"You're not in control of my life, Bruce Wayne, and you definitely don't get to tell me what to do."

Bruce didn't reply, but kept leading her through the dance.

"I'm sorry you feel this way, but I know that this is the right thing to do," Hannah whispered, glancing over his shoulder.

Diana was standing just off the dance floor, watching her and Bruce dance. She didn't seem jealous . . . She just seemed concerned, as if she was afraid something bad would happen to them if they danced any longer. Hannah frowned, unsure of what to make of her.

"What would Jason think of this?"

Hannah jerked out of her train of thought, her heart starting to pound in her chest.

"How dare you bring him up?"

"You know what he'd think, Hannah."

"I do. He'd tell me to follow my instincts, and my instincts are clearly telling me that you're wrong."

Bruce sighed.

"You know what? I think I'm done dancing for the night," Hannah whispered.

She let go of his shoulder, and smiled prettily.

"Good evening, Mr. Wayne."

"Good evening, Miss. Hochberg."

With that, she stepped off the dance floor, leaving him in the middle of several swaying couples. She tried to keep a smile on her face, especially since there were hundreds of people milling around, drinking champagne and laughing obnoxiously.

Her anger was almost uncontrollable, dancing around inside of her like a passionate ballerina. She brought her hands to the front of her dress, and squeezed them so tight that her knuckles started to turn white.

How dare he?

How dare he question her?

How dare he make her feel like a stupid child?

How dare he bring up Jason?

Tears started piling up in her eyes, threatening to poor out in torrential torrent.

"Don't cry, Hannah. Don't cry," she whispered to herself.

On the other side of the room, she saw Oliver and Dinah talking to her parents, so she decided to head on over to them. The sight of her Mom took away a bit of the stress and anger she felt inside; her mother had that effect on her.

"Honey, we were looking for you!" her father, Abraham called.

Abraham Hochberg was passionate man, pone who built an empire out of the dirt. He was one of the richest men in America, but his busy business schedule didn't prevent him from being a family man. Hannah's worth measured more than all of his money, especially since she was his only child.

"You're just in time for the speaker," Lea added, linking arms with her daughter.

"Speaker?"

Hannah's brow furrowed.

"May I have your attention please?" a voice called.

All eyes turned towards the sound, which turned out to be a petite woman in super high heels, standing on the platform where the string quartet was on earlier.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Sarah Hensel, and I am the Director of Gotham's Home for Orphans and Needy Children."

Everyone started clapping loudly, which made Sarah Hensel beam excitedly.

"On behalf of all the children we are taking care of, I'd like to thank you all for your extremely generous donations."

"Drunk donations," Hannah muttered 0under her breath.

Lea jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow, and scowled. Hannah immediately felt, especially since she was usually all for a little charity. This isn't the way she liked to do it, but it was still helpful, since the money was going to a decent place.

"To show you where your money is going, I'd like to introduce you to some of the children that are living at our home."

She turned behind her, where a power point presentation was being displayed on the wall. On the presentation was a group of children, most of them between five and ten. They were all smiling, but they still looked incredibly sad and lonely, which wasn't a surprise to Hannah. These kids had no one in the world, a prospect which is rather daunting, especially when one id a child.

"This is Damian," the woman announced, changing the slide "He's ten years old and has been with us three years. As far as we know, his parents died in the incident at Metropolis back in 2013."

"Awwww," the crowd said collectively.

"He's an extremely bright kid, and he recently completed Algebra II."

Hannah smirked. She liked this kid, even though she didn't know him.

"His hobbies consist of Karate and fencing. When he arrived at the orphanage, he appeared to already be a master in those arts."

A picture of Damian came up on the screen. The poor child looked tired, but possessed a fierceness in his eyes, one that Hannah had seen in maybe a desperate person before. A prominent frown was written across his face, making several people chuckle and shake their heads.

He was a cute kid, with wavy brown hair and deep hazel eyes. His cheekbones looked like they were chiseled out of stone, which made him look extremely regal and proud. He wore a Twenty One Pilots sweater, one that was certainly way too big for him because the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. The jeans he wore were tattered and torn at the knees with a little grass stain right around the edges. Damian clearly spent a lot of time tumbling in the grass.

For some reason, Hannah's heart broke when she saw his picture. He looked like he was ready to explode in a brilliant light. He looked . . . contained. The unhappiness was so evident on his face. Whatever his life was like before his parents died, he missed it more than anything in the entire world.

Sarah flipped through the slide show and talked about several of the other children at the orphanage. Hannah tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but he wandering mind focused of a variety of other things.

The picture of Damian kept coming back to her head. She shifted to another foot, staring up at a picture of a blonde little girl that looked like she walked straight out of the Brady Bunch.

She glanced behind her, so she could catch a glimpse of the ornate clock hanging on the wall behind her. As she turned, however, her eye met with Bruce. Apparently he was just as bored as her, for her shifted impatiently. They looked at each other for a few seconds until she finally looked at the clock. She frowned, realizing that not a lot of time had passed. She turned back to Sarah, and smiled.

"And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, are some of our beautiful wards at our orphanage. Thank you and have and amazing night."

Once again, everyone started clapping, and one drunk man, screamed very loudly "HOORAH FOR THE ORHANAGAE!"

Hannah started making her way towards the door, keeping her conversations with the people that stopped her short. Her mother told her she could leave whenever she liked, so Hannah was determined to take her up on that offer.

She could see her chauffer standing at the door. As she made her way towards him, a voice said "Goodnight, Miss. Hochberg."

Although Hannah didn't turn around, she immediately knew who the voice belonged to.

She'd never heard her talk before, but the voice was unforgettable. Rich, deep, and with an unusual yet beautiful accent . . . It was a voice for a queen.

It was Diana Prince.

"Goodnight," Hannah called back, as she grasped her long dress, and took off towards where her limousine was parked. Her chauffer followed, attempting to help the somewhat clumsy girl make it to her vehicle.

Once inside the car, she leaned back, and sighed. She closed her eyes, and tried to block out some of the emotions, so she could avoid an emotional overload.

Besides, she had work to do once she got home . . .

And she needed to crack this case.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Everyone! Thanks for reading chapter 3. I really appreciate all the kind reviews you all have been leaving! It means a lot to me. So, you met Bruce (And Oliver Queen!) I hoped you enjoyed that. We'll be seeing a lot of Bruce in the upcoming chapters.**

 **Aurora Nightstar: Thanks for the review! To answer your thoughts, no. There will be no romance between Lex and Hannah. Maybe it can be interpreted that way, but I don't see it happening in the upcoming chapters. There will be some romantic tension though. I did know her name meant Grace of God! I think that it's interesting because she feels like she doesn't have God's grace or favor in her life. She's Jewish, so her family is very religious and she was raised on it, but she hasn't exactly made it personal to herself. Don't worry. This story isn't going to be a bunch a religious commentary but I think a little bit of it adds an interesting aspect to her character.**

 **Lady-Hufflepuff-92 - Hannah** ** _does_** **need to be careful After all, he is the Dark freaking Knight. She's very loyal, so she'll never back down from a fight. :) There will be several cameos throughout the story, some of which might be the bat kids. I don't want to spoil anything, but you'll be pleased in that department. I might actually write a sequel to this story about the Red Hood, but I haven't decided yet. We'll have to see how this story goes.**

 **Please Favorite/Follow/Review! Those three things give me the inspiration needed to write chapters.**

 **Thank you all again!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Jason,_

 _I told Bruce._

 _I told him about how I was going to defend Lex. Yes, I know! It was stupid! Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut? This makes me think I'll be a terrible lawyer; unable to keep client's secrets. It wasn't a secret though . . . People would find out at one point, especially in such a public case._

 _Still, I don't get how he squeezed it out of me . . . He was curious and asked questions, but didn't beg or demand. Something about the way he asked, and the way he looked at me made me tell him set me off to blab, but he acted normal . . . Like sarcastic and flirty Bruce._

 _I can remember it all happening . . . The words spilling out of me, like I was talking to my best friend, something I could rely on and trust._

 _He wasn't happy though. I was expecting him to maybe be a tiny bit shocked, but not upset. As soon as I told him, his eyes clouded up, and any amusement he had inside of him drained out. I could tell he was pissed. We were dancing when this conversation went down, so he pulled me close to him and started whispering stuff to me. He told me to leave the "dirty work" to someone else, and kept talking about how he was guilty._

 _He made me furious! He was taking this super personally. Not Lex's crime, but my involvement with it. I don't know him though! Yeah, we know who each other are, but as far as I'm concerned, we're acquaintances. I don't know what his passions are or what he wants to achieve. I don't know too many of his quirks or what makes him Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know much about me either, and I'd be surprised if he did._

 _I know what Lex did was awful, and he deserves to go to trial. However, like all American citizens, he gets the chance to defend himself. We are dealing with such an enormous crime, and if we screw it up, the results can be disastrous. That's why we have a trial! That's why we take these criminal proceedings so seriously!_

 _The worst part about what happened is that he brought you into it . . . The bastard claimed that you wouldn't like the fact I am defending Lex. He said you'd be displeased. Of course the sick bastard did! He never approved of our relationship. Remember when he caught us and how his face turned to stone? I wished I could have sunk into the floor. Normally, I would have been confident, knowing that our relationship was strong and that it didn't matter what he thought. Still, the look in his eyes made me scared._

 _I told him you'd tell me to follow my gut, and that you would agree with whatever decision I made. Obviously, he didn't seem to agree. I was so furious thought that I stopped our dance, and left him standing by himself. Yes, I know it was rude and petty, but pissed! He crossed a line that he shouldn't have even been near._

 _You agree with me, right?_

 _You agree with me when I say that Lex deserves my help . . . You wouldn't get as upset as Bruce did at the gala. I can't imagine you being angry, but maybe you've changed wherever you're resting. Perhaps Heaven or Hell has given you some kind of a perspective that you didn't have here when you were with me._

 _You supported me through thick and thin. It would hurt like hell if you didn't support me now through this sickly mess I'm in right now._

 _I feel bad for Bruce . . . he's so small minded that his opinions are blinding him from approving of correct political procedures. Yes, he may have money, but he doesn't know half of the information regarding this case. I'm sorry for saying such awful things about your adoptive father. I know you loved him even though you fought a lot._

 _When Bruce adopted you, he made an incredible choice. A difficult one, but the best one he could've made. I doubt I would have ever met you if he hadn't seen something special inside of you. For that, I am eternally grateful. I would never exchange my time with you for anything in the world. That's because I love you._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah._

Brinngggggg.

Hannah leapt from her bed, and hit the floor when her alarm clock started blaring.

"Ouch!" she moaned, as she pulled herself to her feet.

She glanced over at her alarm clock, which told her it was 5:00 AM with blaring red figures.

It was morning.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, and rubbed her eyes slowly, trying to shake the sleepiness out of her system. A groan escaped her lips as she opened her eyes again to feel around her phone. After she found it tucked under her pillow, she unlocked it and scrolled through the news, the first thing she did every morning.

One might think starting the day with the depressing and often horrifying news is not a good plan, but it was for Hannah because that was her life . . . The news. She defending the scumbags the articles described, and she wanted to know what was being said about them.

She typed in Lex's Luthor's name into Google, which made several articles pop up concerning his arrest, estate, and absence from last night's gala. However, nothing was said concerning her involvement with his case. After she finished reading a scathing article about Lex's fortune and how he was handling his financial issues, Hannah clicked a link that had pictures from the gala.

Yes, she was curious, especially since there was a presentation about some of the orphans in Gotham and Metropolis. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at several pictures taken by paparazzi, some of people she knew, and some of people she knew of but didn't wish to make an acquaintance with. There were several images of drunk socialites, throwing their heads back, laughing and vomiting everywhere. After she passed those pictures, images of the dancing came up. Apparently, Bruce danced with his date one time after she left him stranded on the dance floor in a flurry.

Something seemed off about the images. Instead of enjoying each other's company, and swaying gracefully to the time of the music, they seemed stiff and on guard. They held each other close, but not in a romantic way . . . It was if they were talking . . .

Hannah could understand talking on the dance floor. She talked with everyone she danced with, but in the pictures there was no warmth, no enjoyment . . . They seemed like characters from a James Bond movie, exchanging top secret information that's crucial to saving the world.

She frowned, and shook her head. They must have been fighting, which wasn't really a surprise to Hannah.

After she finished looking through the pictures, she tossed her phone back onto her bed, and stood up. She had to get some work done, especially since she had to appear in court soon on Lex's behalf. Her mind immediately went back to the conversation she'd had with her friend . . . Images of Lex's shaking figure and desperate, pleading eyes shimmered in front of her.

What had he said?

Something about Batman.

She sighed. Nobody knew who Batman was, and finding out who he was seemed literally impossible. The pictures people had of him were few, and had gone down considerably since the Doomsday incident.

Lex also said something about Jason.

A quick bang echoed through her heart.

Yes, she thought about him a lot, but every time she did, the lost feeling she sometimes felt would grow.

Hannah tried not to place her identity in things or people other than herself. She strongly believed in finding one's true self in what they love and what they do, not someone else's work or agenda.

However, when someone falls deeply and helplessly in love, standards can often fly out the window.

Of course that doesn't make it right, but it doesn't make it any less true.

Jason told her he lost himself in her also, a memory which Hannah cherished. Together, they tried to conquer their worlds, and at the time, it worked. They built a kingdom in each other's company, and promised to rule it together forever.

Nothing good lasts though . . .

Jason died a year later.

A few tears started to form on Hannah's eyes, but the pushed them aside and walked towards her closet. She gazed up to the rack that was situated over her hanging clothing. A faint smile played across her face, and she dashed over to her desk, grabbed her chair.

She dragged it across the room, and once she situated it in front of the closet, she stepped on it, reaching for the top rack. Hannah never considered herself short, she didn't see herself as tall either. Last time she got measure, she stood five feet, four inches.

"Ugh!"

She gently shifted forward onto the tips of her toes, and reached up. On the shelf sat a large, wooden box. To most people, it simply was a plain old box, used to hold something in a garage.

To Hannah, however, it meant a lot more.

Once she pulled it off the top rack, she stepped down from the chair, and sat down on the floor. She brushed a few strands of her hair out of her face, then lifted the lid. A small sigh floated out of her. In the box sat stacks of letters, notebooks, a pocket knife, a copy of "Ender's Game," a copy of the Old Testament, and a fragment of worn out fleece.

Hannah pulled out the letters, fingering each and every envelope, and holding them up to her face. A piece of dried up lavender fell out from in between the envelops, and onto Hannah's lap.

These were the letters she'd written him.

Although she enjoyed technology, Hannah treasured writing letters, so she and Jason would spend hours composing lengthy letters for each other. The ones from Jason were in a shoe box under her bed.

She started to open up one of the envelops, but remembered the last time she did that . . . Tears had come, and had almost ruined some of the worn out letters. She neatly tucked them back inside the box.

Hannah then pulled out one of the notebooks. Jason kept extremely detailed journals from when Bruce first adopted him and right up until his death. Sometimes, the contents were amusing, and Hannah would laugh, but other times, they could be quite depressing and reflected the loneliness Jason sometimes felt.

The one Hannah pulled out was her favorite . . . Jason wrote all the entries shortly after he was in the ninth grade, and some of the run-ins he had with the older man made her crack up.

One entry told of how Bruce insisted Jason read "Animal Farm," the book he had to write an essay on for English class. Jason spent an hour in his bedroom, reading the book, when he wanted to re-read "Ender's Game," his favorite book. After a few minutes, Jason threw his copy of "Animal Farm" out of the window, and when Bruce found out, he took "Ender's Game" and made Jason throw it out of the window too. Jason was furious, to say the least, but instead of yelling and screaming at his adoptive father, he plotted, and put laxatives in Bruce's protein powder.

Hannah read the entry where Jason explained his plan, and chuckled. She could see Jason doing something like that, even as an adult.

Although he and Bruce didn't get along, the journal entries did hint at the enormous amount of respect Jason had for him, despite their constant bickering and fighting.

She thumbed through a couple of other pages, and read a few more entries, but then set the notebook back into the box.

Hannah looked at the copy of the Old Testament, which made her eyes tear up again. Although Jason claimed no religion, he wanted to learn more about Hannah's. She was born and raised to be proud of her Jewish heritage, and affiliated with Judaism. Even though she knew he never believed any of the things that the prophets and Moses spoke, he would ask her questions, and they would discuss some of the principles in the books.

That touched Hannah. Not only did it show the respect he had for her, it showed that he loved her, and that he could get behind her religion, even if he didn't believe it. In a way, it was a sacrifice. Although Jason never officially converted to Judaism, he went along with it, showing that she mattered more to him than his beliefs on Yahweh.

After looking through the Old Testament, she glanced back into the box. The bot of fleece came from the blanket that was draped over his bed, and the tattered copy of "Ender's Game" (the one Bruce threw out the window) still sat inside.

Then there was the pocket knife . . .

Hannah was a pacifist, so she liked to stay away from things she considered weapons, even though they were small. She never really looked at the knife, since it appeared scary to her.

That was strange though . . .

She never looked at it . . . She never looked at the thing Jason carried around in his pocket every single day.

Hannah frowned, and slowly reached inside of the books. Her fingers encircled the knife, which she then twisted around so that it say in the palm of her hand.

It was simple. The outside of it was wooden, yet there was no name carved into it like the ones she's seen in the movies. The frown on her lips grew larger as she flipped one of the blades out. She gasped, barely avoiding cutting off one of her fingers.

She pulled out another blade, a pair of scissors, a nail file, another blade, and a wine bottle opener. Hannah laughed. Jason used the wine bottle opener often when she was around . . . She then held it over her head, trying to examine the inside of the knife. She tapped the side twice, determining that the outside was real wood.

"Huh."

Suddenly, something feel out of the casing and onto her lap. She blinked. Looking down, she searched for whatever had fallen, and quickly found it lying between her legs. Hannah held it up, and stared.

It was a hard drive.

How on earth had that fit into the knife?

She looked at the knife again, trying to figure out where the hard drive had been stashed inside.

"Oh wow."

On the insides, there was a tiny grove, one where a hard drive could be situated if all the knife's accessories were put in properly.

"Well, well, well! We're going to see what's on the hard drive, shall we?" Hannah muttered to herself.

She slowly got back on her feet, clutching the unusually tiny hard drive in her palm. Grabbing her laptop off her desk, she sat down on her bed, then plugged the drive into the USB port.

Hannah wasn't sure if the small hard drive would fit, but when she pushed it into the port, it slid right in. She ran her finger across then mouse, and opened the hard drive contents.

Video files.

Her ear buds were in her purse, which was on the ground right next to her bed, so it wasn't a hassle to get them. She plugged them into her laptop, and clicked on one of the files. The video screen popped up.

Suddenly, the video started play. There was a person on the screen, and it took a nano-second for Hannah to recognize the face.

It was Jason.

Of course it was! This was his hard drive that she found in his knife!

"March 15, 2010," Jason said.

His voice seemed a little tight, and he looked back behind him. In the back round was a room dark, but lit up by several gleaming lights Hannah couldn't identify. Jason sat in a swivel chair, and in front of a desk, which the computer was sitting on. A couple of other computers could be seen in the background, one with a giant map on the screen. A mug shot of someone Hannah couldn't see quite clearly was on the other screen.

Jason himself looked strange. His thick black locks were sticking to his forehead, suggesting that he'd been sweating a lot.

Was he nervous?

She couldn't see all of this outfit, but what she did see suggested it was gray with tints of forest green and dark red. The material looked sleek and smooth, and hugged his body tightly. It looked slightly familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen an outfit like that before.

Hannah paused the video and stared at the background and outfit.

She knew she'd seen that outfit before, and she tried to find a memory of him wearing it.

Nothing.

The weird room he was in didn't look at all familiar, which made an uneasy knot form in her stomach. Jason promised her he'd never keep secrets from her, yet here was this room. It appeared like something out of a spy flick.

Hannah's mind suddenly stopped.

 _The date._

March 15, 2010.

That was the day he died . . .

Hannah gasped, and held her hands to her mouth.

This was his last entry. This was his last video.

His sticky hair made sense now! He was nervous because he knew there was going to be a fight later that night. The room had to be part of his gang's hide-out, right?

Although she felt nauseous, she clicked the play button.

"I'm really worried, okay?" Jason said "We've been hot on his trail for weeks after he escaped Arkham and we've finally found him. We know where he is! But guess what?"

Jason leaned forward, getting closer to the computer.

"The Dark Knight doesn't want to get him."

The Dark Knight . . .

That was one of the Batman's nicknames, one which Hannah despised.

Wait.

What?

The Dark Knight.

We. We found him.

The Dark Knight?

"My god," Hannah whispered.

She didn't have words.

Jason knew the Dark Knight.

Jason knew Batman.

Who else could he have been talking about?

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Hannah repeated.

"The Dark Knight is such a joke at times," Jason continued "Why do I fucking put up with him?"

That confirmed it.

Hannah wasn't sure if she wanted to know the rest. Her breath was being cut short, and her fingers were rattling like a rattle snake's tail. She wanted to close her eyes, and fall asleep, never to wake up again.

Jason _knew_ him!

"Look, if he doesn't want to catch the Joker, I fucking will. I'll make him pay for all the shit he's put me through."

He laughed hoarsely.

"I need to go. Bruce wants me to have dinner with him tonight. Of course he does! On this night of all nights."

Jason sighed, and his started looking for something off camera. His pretty mouth twist itself into a deep frown, and finally, he found what he was searching for.

The frown flipped itself upside down, and turned into a sneer. He held what was in his hand up to his face.

It was a mask.

Jason pressed it too his face, and it stuck.

With that, Jason reached up and turned the camera off.

Hannah slammed her computer shut, too stunned to move. Her blood broiled inside of her viciously, making her want to explode. She was a tiny step from going nuclear. This was way too much for her to handle.

"My god."

The images of Jason with the mask on her face branded itself onto her brain.

How could she have been so stupid?

She took a deep breath, and pressed her left pointer finger on her upper lip, trying to contact the pressure point.

How could she have been so blind?

She shuddered.

Jason was Robin.

It all made sense now. Batman's famous sidekick died right around when Jason did, and Jason always was a little mysterious.

She laughed bitterly.

He even looked like Robin. Even though she couldn't see his whole face, his jaw, his mouth, and his hair gave it away. How could she not have seen it? Maybe she only saw what she wanted to see, or maybe she was too wrapped up in what they had in the moment, that she didn't look to the past.

Was this what Lex meant? Had he wanted her to find out Jason's alter-ego? How long had Lex known about this? And who was the Dark Knight?

Batman obviously held a major key to Lex's case, and she needed to find him so she could get it. Jason knew him, but he was dead, and couldn't provide answer for her. It had to be someone Jason was close to.

Bruce?

No.

In the video, Jason referred to the Dark Knight as a separate person from Bruce, and suggested that Bruce didn't know of his schemes to go solo and kill the Joker. Besides, Bruce was much too busy partying it up with his model flings.

So Bruce was out of the question.

Alfred?

No.

Although the old man was rather fit for his age, he was much too small to be the Dark Knight. Pictures taken of Batman suggested that he was a tall and buff man, which didn't fit Alfred's size.

She had to find out who Batman was though.

He could help her get Lex out of prison, and also could give her some answers concerning Jason's death. Hannah set her face like flint, and opened the next video, which was filmed March 9, 2010.

They were painful to watch, yet they all were the same. They never once did they give away Batman's identity. Jason was careful.

He mostly talked about all the things he did with Batman on the streets of Gotham. He hardly talked about his personal life, which he apparently saved for his notebooks. However, in one video, he talked about Hannah.

One time, a terrorist who planted a bomb in a Gotham subway station, found out who he was, and found out about Hannah. He threatened to kill her, but Robin and the Dark Knight swung in first, and the terrorist died.

"If my girl died, I don't think I'd be able to live anymore," Jason whispered, staring straight at the camera "She's my baby, and I can't let anything happen to her. That's why I killed Schmidt. The Dark Knight was pissed about it, but I don't care. Anything for my girl."

For some reason, Hannah didn't cry when she watched that. Her heart ached through, and she forced a smile.

She never knew about this incident.

She never knew that a terrorist had been after her.

Well, Jason kept her safe, and made sure that she didn't suffer.

He was dead now, so he couldn't stop the suffering now.

"Okay, what now?" Hannah said to herself "How does someone find Batman?"

 **A/N: Hello Everyone! Thanks for reading!**

 **Aurora Nightstar - He will appear a couple times in the story. Is he a major player to the main plot? No. But he's important to Hannah.**

 **SprinklesOfFun - Thanks, my dear! 3**

 **Next chapter: Hannah does some detective work, and Bruce shows up again too.**

 **Please follow/favorite/review! Those three things give me the inspiration to write a look more.**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	5. Chapter 5

_Jason,_

 _You son of a bitch!_

 _Why? Why did you lie, Jason? What made you hide such an enormous secret from me! I loved you! I loved you with everything I had, yet you kept secrets from me. Look, I don't know how I would have reacted if you told me when you were alive, but now? Now, I'm pissed. I am so pissed that you pretended to be something you weren't for a little over a year, and that you got involved in a bunch of crazy bullshit that ended up with you getting beaten to death with a crowbar by a crazy anarchist!_

 _You'd think I wouldn't have the words to describe how I feel, but I do._

 _I can imagine you saying that you didn't really lie to me . . . You just simply withheld the truth. The truth of the matter is, you did lie blatantly. I watched your videos, Jason. Robin was a huge part of your life, part of your identity. His life, his character is branded into you, just like the bat brand of your little friend, The Dark Knight._

 _When you didn't tell me you were Robin, and you claimed that you told me everything, you lied. You lied straight to my face, which makes me sick when I think about it._

 _Did Lex know? Has Lex known about you and your "kick-ass" life style of beating up crooks on the street? He was the one who initially suggested that you were Robin. If he found out, and your bribed him into not telling me, I'll go crazy. To be honest, I think I momentarily was when I first found out . . ._

 _The really strange, really upsetting thing is that I still love you. I still love you._

 _Why?_

 _I don't have a single idea._

 _Well. I have to stop writing this because I'm going to Wayne Manor so that I can snoop around your old bedroom, and see if I can find any more information. Batman knows "the key" to Lex's case._

 _Hannah_

She hastily got dressed, and dashed downstairs to the kitchen. After she put a bagel in the toaster, she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for it to finish cooking. When it was finally done toasting, Hannah snatched it and went to the door. She could eat on the way there.

Hannah pressed down on the gas, ready to leave her house. She needed more information about Jason and his life at Robin, so she needed to go back to his favorite place in the world . . . Hopefully, Bruce hadn't messed with it too much.

Whenever Jason got mad or frustrated with the world around him, he retreated to his bedroom at Wayne Manor to read and think. The room was enormous, being a suite in the gigantic house. Decorated simply, the walls covered with book shelves, comfy arm chairs, and possessing a large king sized bed, it was the perfect hideout. If Jason had anything that might hint at the identity of Batman, it would be in his room.

Finally, after driving up and down Gotham's streets, she pulled into the driveway of the elegant manor. She stepped out, and stared up at the towering beauty of the house. Her heart started hammering in her chest, just like it did every time she looked up at the house. This was where she first met Jason, and this is where she came when Bruce called her, and told her about Jason's death. In a way, the house meant a lot to her.

She walked towards the front door quickly, and then when she got there, she stopped. Suddenly, she realized how messy she looked. Her hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun on the top of her hair, and she wore a pair of black leggings and a pull-over pink sweatshirt that was way too big for her. She pulled the side that fell off her left shoulder back up, then rapped on the door.

A scuffle could be heard from the other side. A few seconds later, the door opened. There, standing in the door way, was Alfred.

Hannah and Alfred were definitely friends when she was younger. When Hannah was a little girl, she ran through the halls of Wayne Manor, and Alfred would chase her, trying to keep her from breaking something valuable. After Hannah's relationship with Jason developed, the pair would sit in the kitchen, and talk to Alfred, while he made them tea. Sadly, things diminished when Jason was swept off the picture.

"Hannah? Hannah Hochberg?" the older man asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Hi Alfred," Hannah replied, waving at him.

Alfred looked a little older, but still had the same hair style, and wore the same bowtie and vest. There were a couple creases around his eyes, and a tired expression on his face. Still, he looked professional and pulled together as usual.

"Please come in! How are you? Let me take your bag!"

Hannah handed him her messenger bag, and stepped into the house.

It looked exactly the same as it did before . . . Elegant, regal, and nothing short of royal. It was also simple and somewhat homey, which seems paradoxical, but makes sense as well.

"The house looks amazing," Hannah commented.

Alfred nodded briskly, and ushered her farther into the house.

"Master Wayne will be happy to see you," Alfred said, walking a few steps ahead of Hannah.

Hannah's stomach dropped. She had been hoping that he'd be away with his work like he usually was during the morning, but apparently not today.

"Oh. That's okay, Alfred. I just wanted to—"

Before Hannah could continue however, Alfred called "Master Wayne!"

She groaned to herself, and looked back up at the ceiling. Hopefully he wouldn't talk to her much or ask her what she was doing here.

"Hannah?"

There, standing in the arch way of the old house, stood Bruce. He looked exhausted, but wore his signature smirk on his face. His hair was slightly mused, as he obviously forgot the comb this morning. In his hand, he held a glass filled with whisky.

"Drinking this early?" Hannah asked, gesturing towards the glass "Looks like an awful lot."

"To you maybe since you can't hold your whisky."

Hannah rolled her eyes dramatically, and smirked. Bruce could be such a smartass sometimes, which could be very irritating.

"To be honest, I didn't expect to see you, especially this early in the morning," Bruce said slowly, walking towards her "Did you come here in a hurry? I haven't seen you dressed like this since—never."

He now stood in front of her, the same smirk plastered on his face.

"You want a glass?"

"No. Actually I—"

"Why not?"

"I'm not a drinker."

He sighed.

"Don't pout in front of me, Bruce."

"Someone's pissed."

"Well, I didn't exactly come here to socialize."

"Fine," he finally said, taking a few steps back "What do you want?"

"I want to go see Jason's room."

Bruce stared at her incredulously, one of his eyebrows raised. He tapped one of his fingers on his glass impatiently, as if he was waiting for her to give an explanation. She stared back up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Maybe he wouldn't let her up . . . after all, they hadn't talked about Jason for almost six years. There was the funeral, and then that was that. To him, Jason was a figment of the past, a distant memory to only be pulled back on occasions. Maybe he sacked Jason's room, and turned it into something else completely. Maybe it was just another bedroom, not a shrine to his memory like she imagined.

"What?" Bruce finally said.

"You heard me."

Bruce rubbed his chin slowly.

"Why?"

"Just walking down memory lane," Hannah murmured, hoping that he'd buy it.

She didn't want to tell him about Jason being Robin. Quite honestly, she had no idea how Bruce would handle knowing that his ward, his adoptive son was a vigilante in the dark, fighting right next to The Dark Knight himself. Ever since one of his buildings collapsed during Superman's fight with Zod, he hated the masked vigilantes and heroes that roamed the Earth freely, and without anyone controlling them.

To Bruce, he might take it as something shameful, something that might sully what he believed to be his good name.

"Memory lane?" Bruce repeated.

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll take you up there."

"Oh—um—Don't bother. I know the way."

"No, no. I'll take you."

"I believe my relationship with Jason did not include you," Hannah snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Bruce snorted, which made her chuckle sarcastically.

"I can go myself," Hannah repeated.

She started to march towards the stairs.

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"What I said at the gala."

"Oh, so you approve of me representing Lex now?"

"No, but I shouldn't have brought up Jason. I know that's a sore topic for you."

"Really? How would you know? You don't know me at all, Bruce!"

With that, she headed up the stairs towards Jason's room. As she strode up the steps, she could sense Bruce's presence at the bottom of the staircase, but chose to ignore it. She had far more important things to deal with.

Once she reached the top of the stair case, she walked down the hall, which led to another hall that had three doorways in it. She immediately went for the second door.

Her fingers rested on the door knob before she turned it though. Hannah inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm her fluttering nerves. Finally, she twisted it and walked in.

The room was exactly the same.

Jason's bed was at the far end of the room, neatly made, which meant someone must have come in here after he died. His lamp was still situated on the nightstand next to his alarm clock that's numbers still glowed eerily. Next to the alarm clock was another copy of "Ender's Game," one which Hannah did not recognize.

She walked into the room, breathing heavily. The bookshelves were still loaded with books, but they had collected dust. She ran a finger over them, and held it up to examine to layer of dust that transferred onto her hand. She tugged on one of the books, a copy of "The Art of War." It was another one of Jason's favorites.

As she held it in her hands, she frowned. The book seemed heavier than usual. She brushed off all the dust, and examined the old, rustic red colored book.

Yes, "The Art of War" is a meaty book with a lot of chapters, but the copy seemed different than before . . .

 ** _Six Years Earlier . . ._**

 _"_ _The Art of War, huh?" Hannah said, holding the book in her hands._

 _Jason grinned cheekily, and nodded._

 _"_ _Yeah. It was written by Sun Tzu. He was a military strategist in ancient China."_

 _"_ _Wow!" Hannah replied._

 _Truth be told, she'd read "The Art of War" before when she was in the tenth grade, but she didn't want to explain that to Jason, especially since this was the first time they'd ever been alone together._

 _His excitement was also pretty cute, and Hannah didn't want that to end._

 _"_ _I'll definitely enjoy this . . . Wow, it's heavy though!"_

 _"_ _Sun Tzu had a lot of ideas."_

 _Hannah chuckled lightly, smiling up at Jason. He smiled back at her, his bright eyes glowing happily. They stayed like this a few seconds. Hannah could feel her heart going a mile per minute in her chest, and she could only hope his heart was doing the same._

 _Suddenly, she seemed to realize how awkward this was, staring at him uncontrollably like that._

 _"_ _Uh ,sorry," she muttered, looking down at the book._

 _Jason didn't reply, but turned around and looked at his alarm clock._

 _"_ _It's almost midnight. You're probably kinda tired."_

 _"_ _I'm in college. I am totally used to staying up super late."_

 _"_ _Right. Right."_

 _Jason winked playfully, which made her cheek flame up to a bright red color._

 _"_ _Hope you enjoy the book."_

 _"_ _Thanks, you big nerd!"_

 _Jason's mouth popped open, making Hannah immediately regret what she said._

 _"_ _Sorry."_

 _He started laughing, which made Hannah smile nervously. The young man brushed some of his black hair out of his face, his eyes squinting from the laughter._

 _"_ _Hannah Hochberg, you are something else!"_

 _"_ _Is that better than being a nerd?"_

 _Jason stopped laughing abruptly. Hannah's stomach dropped, and a deep feeling of guilt surged over her. She opened her mouth, but then shut it, figuring that she'd rather not dig herself a deeper hole. Her gaze dropped from his. Jason stuck his finger under her chin, and lifted her head up._

 _"_ _Believe me, you're a hell of a lot better than this train wreck here."_

 _"_ _Um . . ."_

 _Jason dropped his hand, and turned towards his door._

 _"_ _Bruce'll have my head if he finds out you're in here. Weird that I'm still scared of my old man at twenty one, right?"_

 _"_ _N—No, I think it's great you respect him."_

 _Jason sighed. Hannah walked out the door, and headed down the hallway, followed closely by Jason. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stopped._

 _"_ _I want a full report on "The Art of War" next time I see you, okay?"_

 _"_ _Absolutely."_

 _They stood there in silence for a couple of seconds._

 _"_ _Well, goodnight!"_

 _With that, Jason dashed back up the stairs._

 ** _End of Flashback . . ._**

As Hannah remembered the incident, she lifted the copy of the book in her hand. She distinctly remembered how it felt when she first handed it to him . . . Heavy, but not ridiculously heavy. This copy felt like she was carrying a brick.

"Huh."

Hannah flipped through the book's torn pages, reading some of the text. She sighed as she turned the page, assuming that her memory must be wrong. The next thing she knew, her fingers were touching something . . . cold.

A wave of nausea bubble in her stomach as she stared down at the book.

There, in the middle of the book, sat a bat shaped piece of metal, placed in the middle of the book.

Some of the pages were carved out to fit the object. Hannah pulled it out and held it up. It was black and silver with sharp points at where the wings of the bat ended. She lightly tapped it.

"Ah!"

A drop of blood trickled down her finger. She winched. The sight of blood never settled well with her.

"What is this for?" she murmured, turning it around in the palms of her hands.

She knew it must have something to do with Batman. After all, it was in the shape of the animal. Her mind started turning, thinking of ways this object could be useful. She determined it must be some kind of gadget or weapon that Batman used, and Jason had left it in the book for some reason.

Wait . . .

If Batman had used the dart, his finger prints would be on it, and if his finger prints were on it, she would be able to trace Batman. That would lead her to finding out his secret identity.

Hannah grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"Damn, I left my bag with Alfred. How am I gonna get you out of here?"

She considered sticking it in her shoe, but figured that it would make her walk strangely, which would draw attention. Finally, she stuffed it down her sweatshirt and into her sports bra.

It poked her, which made her flinch a little bit. Still, it was what she had to do.

"This better be worth it," she muttered as she headed out of Jason's room "This better be worth it."

She walked down the stairs, holding her head up high. Hopefully, Bruce and Alfred wouldn't notice the fact she was smuggling something out of their house. The object jabbed her, but she bit her lip, and forced a smile.

When she made it back to the room she talked to Bruce in, she noticed that Alfred had neatly arranged her bag on the couch. She picked it up, slung it over her shoulder, and then gently touched the bat shaped gadget through her sweatshirt.

Hannah smirked, then walked towards the archway. Alfred and Bruce were nowhere to be found. As she passed the liquor table, she glanced towards it, Bruce's half-empty glass on the table. A sudden thought flickered through her head. She snatched a tissue from a tissue box on the coffee table, and picked up the glass carefully. Then, she opened the liquor bottle, and poured the remaining contents of the glass back into it. After that, she wrapped the glass up in the tissue, then placed it carefully in her bag.

"Might as well get Bruce completely out of the question," she mumbled.

She knew Bruce wasn't The Dark Knight, but she wanted to compare his fingertips with the ones on the object. Slowly and surely, she casually walked towards the door.

"Alfred?" she called, looking around the entry way.

No answer.

"Alfred? Bruce?"

Nothing.

She sighed, and gently rested her hand against her bag. Her palm could feel the glass nestled in the bag.

"What the hell? I need to get out of here!"

With that, she bolted out of the house, and back into her car. A few seconds later, she was speeding down the driveway.

On the way, she pulled out the object, pricking two of her fingers in the process.

"I got to get this to a lab."

She cocked her head.

What lab could she take this to? It couldn't be someone in Gotham . . . People in Gotham were far too connected with Batman. A name crossed through her head, an old friend from college might be able to help her out. She pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts. Finding the right contact, she clicked on it, then held it up to her ear.

"Hello?" a familiar voice said.

"Iris?"

"Oh my god! Hi!"

"How are you, girl?"

"I'm amazing! How are you?"

"Good, good! Hey look, I needed a small favor. I know your Dad is a detective for the Central City Police, and I need his help for a case I'm working on."

"Really? What kind of case?"

"I need to identify some finger prints on an object. I'm trying to find someone's identity. It's a little secretive, so I need him to help me line him with a forensic scientist who can do something privately for me."

"Yeah, yeah. I think he could arrange something. You'd probably have to explain it to him in person though. How about lunch? Tomorrow?"

Hannah grinned.

"Does tomorrow at noon sound good?" Hannah asked.

"Yes! There's this cute little café down the street from where I work. I'll text you the address."

"Perfect! Thank you so much, Iris! This means so much to me!"

"Of course! Dad and I will see you there!"

"Okay! Bye!"

Hannah clicked the hang up button, and put her phone in the cup holder.

"One step closer to finding out who you are," she said, an enormous smile plastered on her face "I'll find you, I swear."

 **A/N:**

 **Hello Readers! How've you been? Thank you for reading chapter five of my story! Bruce got another short appearance and so did Iris West. As far as Joe and Iris, I'm basing them off the CW TV show's versions because I don't know a whole lot about their involvement with the Flash in the DC Cinematic Universe. I actually considered putting Diana in this chapter, but I thought it'd be too stuffed if I did . . .**

 **Also, flash back! What did you guys think? I put it in the explain why she found the batarang (the object in the book.) If you don't know what a batarang is, it's what Bruce threw at Barry in the Justice League trailer.**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Yes, Lex did know Bruce was Batman. Not only do I think he did in the movie, I made him know in this story because it helps the plot flow. ;) He's not telling Hannah though because he's absolutely terrified of what he's seen (Steppenwolfe, Darkseid, Apocalypse etc.)**

 **Lady-Hufflepuff-92 - Hannah is being a little reckless in her search for Batman, isn't she? She's driven by her emotions, so sometimes she does stupid stuff. She's also kinda attached to the idea of Batman having the answers when she probably should be looking into some other factors of Lex's case as well. Also, Jason still has a hold over her, which allows the case to put salt on an open wound in a way. She will talk to Lex again somewhere in the next couple chapters. So hang on! :)**

 **Once again, thank you so much! You guys are wonderful, and I love answering your reviews.**

 **Please favorite/follow/review! Those three things really motivate me to write more!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Jason,_

 _Look, I'm sorry._

 _When I found out you were Robin, I was heartbroken. I took it as a lie . . . An enormous lie. I found it hard to believe that you didn't trust me enough to know your identity; to know who you truly are. You, a superhero by night, did not trust the person you promised to share your deepest heart with._

 _But now I see what you really felt. I'm sorry. The last letter was written in a heat of anger and confusion. Now that I've thought about what this all means, I see that you did it for my own good. You did it to protect me._

 _Yes, I do believe the decision to be with you, hero or not, was mine to make. Not yours. Jason, your courage inspires me. Your kindness makes me smile, and the fact that you were willing to die for me and this city makes me so proud. Still, that was my call, my choice. If I didn't think I could be with someone who put his life out on the line like that, I could have broken up with you. That was not your responsibility to decide._

 _I'll never regret the time we spent together. Looking back, I wouldn't have changed a thing. Sure, there were things that disappointed me like hell, but in the end, I learned so much about myself. I learned how to love let myself be loved. I learned to forgive myself, and to cling onto what was important to me._

 _It's funny, but I used to think I couldn't be strong . . . That I couldn't be independent with a man by my side. You proved me wrong. You proved that I would never have to settle, never have to bend down in order to love someone. You showed me that I needed to find someone that wanted me yet was willing to let me be myself and to pursue my dreams and plans. You let me be me. That was the greatest treasure you could have ever given me. I think I knew you. I think I knew who you were, even without knowing what you did in the night._

 _I'm trying to find peace over this whole situation, and I think I'm almost there. I can't promise that I'll be completely over everything concerning Robin and Batman, but I can promise that I am searching for complete understanding._

 _Well, I've got to go. I'm meeting up with a friend from college. Iris? You remember her? I need her and her father's help with Lex's case. Lucky me, I've got a lead. I can find out who Batman is.! He knows why Lex bombed the capitol building. Ah, I've probably told you all of this before. The thing is, its consuming my mind. Lex needs to get out of there . . . It isn't healthy for him. He's not insane, but it's still not healthy, especially when there's something weighing on his mind so much._

 _I never thought I'd have sympathy for someone who did something so horrible . . . Don't worry, I never will agree with thinking that blowing up the capitol was the only way or appropriate to prove his point. However, I do believe he had a reason, a cause if you will. Ugh, I know that I've told you this before a million times over, but I can't stress it enough._

 _Ah, never mind. I have to get on the road to meet Iris all the way in Central City. I don't want to be late. Well, you know I hate being late._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

Hannah had a heavy heart when she got into her Porsche. She knew she had a mission to accomplish, but she didn't have the flaming passion she has before. It came in swings. Sometimes, she wanted to win this case so badly she felt sick. However, other times she didn't want to fight; she wanted to stay in her bed and sleep.

Hannah pressed on the gas, and shot out of her driveway like a lightning bolt.

 _This better be worth it._

A small scowl crossed her face.

 _Ugh, it hot in here!_

One of her hands reached out for a button, and pressed down on it. The window then rolled down, and a gust of wind blew into her face. A sigh escaped her lips, as she resisted the urge to close her eyes and just let her senses tingle at the sensation of the wind. She then hooked her phone up to the AUX cord, and clicked one of her favorite albums.

 _We were both young when I first saw you,_

 _I closed my eyes and let the flashback start,_

 _You're standing there,_

 _On a balcony in summer air . . ._

The bubbling, sickly feeling in her stomach vanished. Hannah brushed a strand of lose hair out of her face, her eyes trained upon the road ahead of her. Her smile grew bigger.

Sometimes, all one needs to do when they feel better is listen to a little Taylor Swift and roll down the windows in her car.

Time flew by the next hour and a half. Finally, she pulled into a parking garage in the middle of Central City. Her smile dropped into an unpleasant frown once again as she gave her keys to the valet, and stepped out of her car.

"I'll be back in a few hours," she told the man, who nodded and waved at her as she left.

Once she was out of the parking garage, she looked all around her.

Central City didn't really appeal to her. Although it was a suburban place, it wasn't at all like Gotham. It seemed cleaner and more put together, complimentary of the enormous, and well put together police force. Everything was tidy, whether it was the spotless streets or the neatly trimmed tress that graced the city occasionally.

Everyone else seemed wealthier also.

In Gotham, there was the rich and the poor. Middle class people seemed few and far between. Hannah was used to being raised with the rich and elite, rarely exposed to the hard life of people who didn't have as much as them. Crime also ran rampant, destroying people's lives in thousands of different ways. The police force struggled to keep them in line, and although they succeeded occasionally, they failed too many times to count. Criminals like the Joker and the Riddler didn't help the situation either.

When Hannah was a little girl, she remembered her Father telling her about the new police commissioner who came on the job when she was a toddler. It was the first thing Hannah could ever remember. She saw that man on TV several more times, and even had the privilege of meeting him when she went to see Lex. That man did a lot of good for Gotham, regardless of whether people wanted to see it or not,

Gotham was a mess. Honestly, there probably wasn't a more crime-filled place in the whole world. Still, it was Hannah's home and she loved it. The dirty streets and the imperfect people added to what an amazing city it truly was.

Hannah couldn't see Central City that way . . . Sure, it was a pretty place, but it wasn't her home, and the people were not her people.

She pulled out her phone, and after a few seconds, lifted it to her ear.

"Hey Hannah! You here yet?"

"Yeah, I just parked. I'm walking towards Jitters now!"

"Alright, see you then! We're almost there also."

"Bye!"

Hannah clicked the hang-up button, then proceeded to walk towards Jitters.

Jitters was a quaint little café in the heart of Central City, one that Iris and Hannah ate at multiple times before it relocated to down town. The food was delectable, the coffee was strong, and the service was fast; it was basically the best restaurant in the city.

It walk to Jitter ended quickly. In a few moments, Hannah ended up in front of the café. She walked into the restaurant, listening to the jingling bell at the top of the door.

Almost immediately, she was greeted by a cute looking woman roughly her age. Her beautiful brown hair fell down her shoulder, and her dark brown eyes shone brightly. An enormous smile graced her face; she seemed genuinely happy to see her. Her clothing was simple yet tasteful, a true fashion statement.

"Hannah!"

"Oh my god! Hello!" Hannah exclaimed, grabbing her friend and pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's been too long!" Iris replied, squeezing her back.

Iris stepped back, and ushered Hannah to a booth.

"Come on! Let's sit!" she told Hannah.

Hannah obeyed, sliding into the both. Once she situated herself and her purse, she smiled at Iris, who was sitting across from her.

"Dad is running a little late, but he should be here soon. In the meantime, tell me how you've been? How's life in Gotham?"

"Chaotic, but it's been fun. Like I told you earlier, I'm working on a big case currently."

"Ooh . . . You got to tell me details."

"I can't tell you too many just yet, but it involves some crazy, violent bullshit. People got killed. Sad stuff but and its keeping me on my toes."

"Just the way you like it."

"You know me too well. Now, tell me. You enjoying being a journalist?"

"Oh my god yes! It's amazing. I am so glad you made sure I took that journalism class back in college."

"Hah! You're welcome!"

Iris was a reporter for a prominent Central City newspaper, and was really starting to make a name for herself. She adamantly believed in the existence of meta-humans, which most people seemed to deny despite the very presence of Superman and Wonder Woman. When she got interested in these people with supernatural powers, she uncovered some evidence that suggested there was someone out there who could run faster than the speed of light. Of course, most people laughed at claims like that, but people still read her column, and that was all that mattered to her. As long as people were learning about it, she was content.

Hannah never ceased to marvel at the fact people refused to acknowledge these possibilities, especially after such crazy recent events. Well, that is the world they lived in; one with people always denying, never accepting. It's a sad way to live, but a popular way all the same.

"And there was a recent incident at a house in the suburbs. A house was burning down, and the mother and two daughters were trapped inside. Next thing they knew, they were half a mile away. No reason! One of the daughters even claimed that she felt hands, hands holding her in the millisecond that I took to get her to where she ended up."

"That's fascinating. Have you talked to the family?"

"I have. I'm actually writing an article about it. Hopefully, it'll be published sometime in the next week. Oh hey dad!"

Hannah turned to see Iris's father walking towards their booth. She smiled happily.

Detective Joe West was a strong man, one of the leading detective's for Central City's police force. He was admired, and led his group of men with a determined will yet with a little kindness as well. Not only did he kick ass on a daily basis, he was an excellent father who had raised Iris all by himself. He pushed Iris to achieve her very best, which she did with startling success. Joe was a kind man, one that made everyone around him feel very happy. Smile creases were visible around his mouth and the corners of his eyes.

"Hey baby girl! Good to see you!"

Iris jumped up, and Joe kissed her on the top of her head. He then extended his hand to Hannah, who grabbed it quickly.

"It's absolutely wonderful to see you again Detective West! How have you been doing?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. How are you?"

He and Iris slid back into their both.

"I've been good. Busy, but good."

"Iris was telling me that you have a big case coming up soon."

"Yeah, it's been crazy."

"Well, they're crazy on my side too."

"I believe it."

"So, iris was telling me that you need some lab work done."

"I do actually. It involves some finger prints."

"Why come to Central City?"

Hannah sighed, and ran her hands over her head.

"Unfortunately, I can't do it in Gotham. The case involves some very . . . Prominent figures in Gotham, so I need to keep this under the radar."

"Uh huh."

"So I was wondering if you knew a forensic scientist that would be willing to take this on for me."

Joe rubbed his chin thoughtfully, while Iris gazed at him steadily.

"I think there's someone I could ask but—"

"Dad, what about Barry?"

"Yeah, Barry!"

Iris turned to Hannah, a big smile stretched across her face.

"Barry is an old friend of mine and he works for the CCPD. He's amazing at what he does. I'm sure he'll do this for you."

Joe shrugged.

"That's a pretty good idea. Although Barry has been a little well—tense lately."

""Really? I'm his best friend, Dad, and I haven't noticed that."

"If you don't think he's up to it, we can work something else out," Hannah cut in.

"No, no, no! Let me call Barry. He'll do this," Iris replied.

"Okay then. Sounds like a plan! Do you guys want to order now?"

Hannah wasn't the type to just barge in on people, but she wanted to get this done today. Her hand grasped her purse tightly, as she felt the cup and the batarang in it. After she'd gotten home, she had carefully placed the two objects into zip lock baggies in order to preserve the fingerprints.

Iris told her that Barry Allen, her childhood friend and forensic scientist, would be at his lab in CCPD. Apparently he was an avid worker, and usually hung out in the work place.

She stared up at the Central City Police Station. Unlike the Gotham Police Station, it was new and modern, perfect for a hub of a bunch of crime fighting officers.

"Here goes nothing."

She pulled the door open, and stalked inside, trying to look as professional as possible.

"Hello," she told the secretary at the front desk "Is Barry Allen in?"

"Yes ma'am. Is he expecting you?"

"Well—not exactly."

"I know Detective Joe West. He said I could go up and see him."

The secretary tilted her head, and chewed her lip for a second.

"Fine. Go up the stairs on your right. His lab should be the last door on your left."

"Awesome. Thank you so much."

With that, she charged towards the stairs, determined to get this done. The flight of stairs was shorter than she expected. As she scaled them, she formed what she was going to tell Barry Allen in her head . . . She didn't want to bring Batman up . . . That might scare him off. Then again, maybe it would make him interested.

What if he got too curious?

What if he found out about Lex?

That would be a disaster.

She wasn't ready for people to find out about her working with him.

People would judge her harshly, and she could stand the criticism from most of them. Bruce, for example. However, she couldn't bear it if her parents found out.

She walked down the hallway, looking at each door as she went. Finally, she reached the last door on the left. Taking in a deep breath, she knocked.

There was a scuffle behind the door, and the sound of something crashing. Hannah winched.

"Damn it," a voice muttered from behind the door.

It then swung open, and Hannah was a taken back. Barry Allen looked nothing like expected.

For some reason, Hannah imagined him as tall and roguishly handsome. Instead, -she was greeted by someone who was cute, yet insanely clumsy. He had dark hair that brushed against his ears, and curious brown eyes peering out from under arched eyebrows.

"Barry Allen?"

"Uhh—yes?"

Hannah extended her hand.

"Hi, I'm Hannah Hochberg, a friend of Iris."

"Ohh—uhh—Come in?"

"Uh, thanks."

Barry's lab was definitely not as professional as expected. Instead of the squeaky clean, extremely modern room she expected, she saw a loft like room with a desk, shelf covered with various labeled vials. On the other side of the room was a dry erase board and large table covered with various machinery. On the desk sat several glowing computer screens.

"Wow. So this is your lab?"

"So—um—Hannah Hochberg, friend of Iris. Why are you in my lab?"

"Oh sorry! You see, I'm a lawyer, and I'm trying to get a client off the hook. In order for that to um—happen, I need some lab work done—privately. Iris suggested I talk to you."

"Oh, well yeah. If—if Iris wants me to, I'll do it."

"I can pay you."

Barry laughed nervously, and stumbled towards his chair. He sat down, then stood back up, then sat back down again.

"N—no need. It'll be for Iris."

Hannah chuckled to herself. She ran her fingers across his desk, and a picture frame caught her eye. It was him with Iris. She was smiling at the camera, and he appeared to be laughing, as well as gazing at her. The love in his eyes was so obvious it made Hannah smile.

The guy was obviously in love with her.

"Well, thank you."

"So what'd you need me to do?"

"Barry, um. You understand that I'm doing this privately, and I want to keep things quiet."

Barry raised an eyebrow and his mouth flopped open.

"Okay, okay. I can do quiet."

Hannah smiled.

"Thank you."

"So . . ."

"Oh, right! Here!"

Hannah reached into her bag, and pulled out the two zip lock bags, one with the glass, and the other with the batarang. She handed them to Barry, who took them gently. He walked over to the table covered with machines, pulled up a chair sitting next to it, and then set the bags down on some kind of a pad. He pulled out a magnifying glass. He then put on a pair of gloves.

"A magnifying glass?"

"Oh, yeah. I think it's a little easier for right now."

He pulled open a bag, and pulled out the glass.

"Looking for fingerprints?"

"Yes."

"Okay, is there a person you'd like me to match it to?"

"I'd actually like you to compare them to the fingerprints on the other . . . object."

Barry opened the next bag, and carefully pulled out the batarang. His eyes widened.

"This is a batarang."

"Um, yes. It is."

"W—what? How did you get this? This is um—crazy—this is—uh."

"Bullshit, I know. Look here, Barry. Just check the finger prints please. For Iris."

Hannah hated bringing Iris up to force him to do this. Barry looked extremely stressed as he rubbed his forehead. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, okay. I can do it. Compare the fingertips on the glass to the . . . batarang."

"Thank you, Barry. I appreciate it. This means a whole lot to me, and Iris too, I'm sure."

"Appreciation is gonna get me my ass kicked," he muttered under his breath, flipping the batarang over in his hands.

"What?"

"N—nothing."

"Okay."

"Hey look, I have a case that I'm doing for Detective West right now, but I'll get to by tonight. I promise."

"Alright. When you're done, get back to me I guess."

"Yeah, I will."

He pulled out a bin, and a box of plastic, see-through bags, and placed both the batarang and glass in them. He then put them in the bin.

"I'll just file this away, and look at it later tonight."

He was still frowning.

Some people say smiling and yawning is contagious, but so if frowning. Barry's aura had changed from shy and sort of awkward to stressed and uncomfortable.

"If you're thinking that I'm going to tell anyone about the fact you got your hands on a batarang, you're wrong. I can keep a secret."

"Good."

"I've been keeping secrets for a while now."

Hannah nodded slowly.

"Me too. Thanks for the hundredth time, Barry."

"No problem. I'm happy to help."

"Yeah."

Something told her that wasn't true, but she needed this done, and Iris, one of her oldest friends, said she could trust this guy. Iris would never lead her on or let her do something that would harm her or her career.

Right?

"I guess I'm going to go now," Hannah said, slinging her purse back over her shoulder.

"Of course. Glad you stopped by."

 _Stop lying, Barry._

"Okay. I guess I'll see you around."

She turned on her heel, and walked towards the door, leaving the unusual Barry Allen and his strange lab.

 _What is wrong with you? You're acting like you're in high school and you're afraid your friend is going to gossip about you or something!_

Hannah waved at the secretary as she walked out of the CCPD. The woman eyed her suspiciously, then sighed and went back to her work. As she headed back to her car, Hannah picked up her pace.

She wanted to get out of here.

Desperately.

All she wanted was Barry to get back to her with the answers with Batman's prints. She also wanted to make sure Bruce wasn't the Dark Knight. Once again, she laughed bitterly at the thought.

Her phone rang.

"Hey Mom, what's up?" she asked, trying not to sound exasperated.

"Hannah, where are you? We have to leave for the clothing drive at the Gotham Orphanage in a few hours!"

"Th—the clothing drive?"

"Yes! Honey, we talked about this."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm In Central City right now but—"

"Central City? Why?"

"To see Iris, Mom."

"Oh, that's nice, honey! You'll have to tell me how your visit was on the way there."

"Yeah, sounds amazing. I'll meet you there."

"Alright. Bye."

"Bye."

She clicked the hangout button, then let a groan rip out of her system.

 _Are you kidding me?_

Usually, she was a charitable girl and loved helping people in need, but her heart wouldn't be in it. She couldn't stand the hypocrisy in herself, especially when she despised it so much in others.

"Well, we got stuff to do then," she told herself sarcastically.

She sighed, and entered the parking lot. After paying for her stay and tipping the valet, she zoomed off towards Gotham.

 _I'll go see Lex after this whole thing. I promise._

 **A/N:**

 **Hello lovely readers! Guess what? School has started (Yay-nooooo!)**

 **Anyhow, please enjoy this chapter.**

 **Shout out to the lovely Aurora Nightstar! It is so much fun discussing stories with you! I'm happy that you're enjoying this.**

 **tailsliketacos - I KNOW RIGHT? I really hope more people write about Jason and how his death effected so many people in the cinematic universe. Hopefully, we'll learn more about that in the movies. In the meantime, maybe this fic will suffice. 3**

 **Thanks for reading! It means so much to me. Don't hesitate to favorite/follow/subscribe! Things are going to get crazy here and well . . .You don't want to miss it!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Jason,_

 _I took the batarang to the forensic scientist Iris suggested. His name was Barry Allen . . . Wait, did I tell you that in the last letter? Well, never mind that. His name is Barry Allen, and he wasn't like he was expected. He was nerdy and very awkward, almost a little shy. The kid was cute. He also seemed crazy over Iris, which was kind of cute and a little sad at the same time, considering she's dating someone else. Well, I hope the best for him._

 _After I showed him the batarang, his personality changed. He seemed . . . scared, and a little more unsure than he'd been before. Definitely stressed out I would say. He examined the glass and the batarang, and said he'd check for matching finger prints, which is exactly what I wanted. He also promised not to say a word about me getting a hold of the batarang. Hopefully, he won't tell Iris or her dad._

 _You know what would happen if people found out about this? First off, people would go crazy because I'm so close to figuring out who this vigilante is. They might even find out about your video diary. I hid the hard drive of course, but there are crazy people out there who can hack and find out that I have it. The possibility of me having to deal with that sort of thing is scary; the fact I took Lex's case also indicates that I'll get more . . . publicity. It's a high profile case, so I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for it._

 _So basically, everything is hanging on Barry Allen now. If he tells, I get targeted. Well, let's just hope he keeps his promise and doesn't tell anyone._

 _I'm sorry I have to cut this letter short . . . Apparently my family has to attend a clothing drive for the Gotham orphanages. I'm happy to help, but I'm not too thrilled to work with my favorite hypocritical socialites._

 _Wish me luck._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

"Thank you so much for coming!" Sarah Hensel exclaimed as Hannah, her mother, and a few other members of rich Gotham families walked through the doors.

Hannah smiled at Sarah, remembering her from the gala. She took Sarah's hand, and shook it, the action followed by her companions. They were ushered into the orphanage, where all of them immediately took in their surroundings.

It wasn't grand or expensive looking, but it was fairly homey. Unlike the stiff stereotype of orphanages found in movies, this home was neat but relaxed. The ceiling was high, and several wooden beams ran across the roof. In the lobby area, there were a few couches parked around, which had occupants from the orphanage sitting on them. Situated around the couches, sat several tables, which had clothing bins all over them. Each bin had a label stuck to them, each bearing the name of a certain type of clothing.

"Here is what we're going to do, ladies. The drive opens in roughly ten minutes. People will be able to bring their clothes in, and you must sort them and put the articles of clothing in their respective bins. Any questions?"

Silence.

"Alrighty then! Let's get to work, shall we? Mrs. Hochberg, Mrs. Lee, Miss. Lee, Miss. Carmichael, and Mrs. Salmender, you shall work here at the clothing drive."

This left Hannah and two other snobby rich girls, Jane Dawson and Leia Brady.

"Miss. Hochberg, Miss. Dawson, and Miss Brady. I was thinking that you might be able to go talk to some of our wards. They don't get visitors very often, and I'm sure they'd be happy to see you."

Jane and Leia stared at each other incredulously, but Hannah smiled bravely.

"Of course. Please lead the way," she told Sarah Hensel.

Miss. Hensel gestured for them to follow, lead them out through a back door, and then up a flight of stairs. She then turned down another hallway, which led to a big room. The room was filled with a bunch of young boys, covering a large span of years. Some of them seemed younger, maybe seven or eight, while others were pushing their teenage years. Jane and Leia sighed, and headed into the crowd of kids, which ogled up at them.

A small frown crossed Sarah Hensel's face.

"I assume they really don't want to be here," she told Hannah, who remained next to her.

"Oh, um—I don't think so," Hannah replied, slightly shocked over her statement.

Sarah's face twitched slightly.

"I remember seeing you at that gala, dancing with Mr. Wayne. I assumed you were one if his silly flings, and that you were arguing over something. Possibly breaking up."

"Oh, Bruce—Mr. Wayne—and I aren't together and we never were."

"I see. After you finished dancing, I saw you though . . . In the crowd when I was giving the speech."

"You did?"

"Yes. The reason I remember you is because you were the only one who wasn't completely drunk or bored."

"I found your talk interesting and—"

"Miss. Hochberg, I watch these girls, these young socialites, and they don't want to be here. They're here because they want to look good; they don't genuinely care about what these kids have to go through. You're different though. You're passionate, fiery. It's almost scary to see."

She paused, turning to look at Hannah.

"Is there a 'but' coming?" Hannah asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"But you seemed sad."

"Sad?"

Sarah nodded.

"Your passion doesn't come from the joy of life, it comes from the hatred of it."

Hannah frowned, and placed her hands on her hips. What Sarah was saying hit her too heavily than she'd like to admit; she also had no desire to let his woman win the argument that was about to come.

"How the hell could you know?"

"Because I see it every single day in the eyes of these children, children that've lost everything. Some of them don't even know exactly what they've lost . . . All they know is that it was better than this, having no parents and not a whole lot to live for. You lost something, Miss. Hochberg and its hurting who you truly are."

Hannah opened her mouth, then shut it soundly.

Sarah was right, even though she hated to admit it.

"Now, I can tell you want to talk to some of our wards here," Sarah said softly "You can go now."

"Thank you."

Hannah turned towards the children, smiling at them all. They were all busy, talking to each other, and playing with Superman action figures on the ground. She lifted her eyes, then caught sight of a young boy sitting in the corner. His nose was stuck into a thick book with a red cover. Hannah walked towards him. He apparently heard her coming towards him for he looked up, staring straight at her.

It was the kid from the slide show at the gala.

"Hey," Hannah whispered "What're you reading?"

The boy mumbled something under his breath.

Hannah sat down on the floor next to him.

"What?"

"The Art of War, okay? Not that you've read it!" the boy exclaimed, slamming the volume shut.

"You lost the page you were at."

"It's fine. I have it memorized. What do you want?"

"I—um—I just wanted to say hello . . . If that's alright with you."

"I guess. A lot of things are alright, and they kind of have to be."

"Like what?"

The boy rolled his eyes dramatically, and let out a deep groan.

"The fact that my Mom died. Of course she did . . . Then why would I be here?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Sure."

He opened up his book, and thumbed through the pages. He eventually reached the right one, proceeding to start reading.

"How long have you been here?" Hannah pressed.

"A while now."

"Why?"

"Thalia died."

"Who's Thalia?"

"My Mom."

"I'm sorry."

"You already said that."

"Oh . . . What about your dad?"

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"I try not to. What about you dad?"

The boy shrugged.

"You don't know?"

"Pretty sure he'd dead. Mom never talked about him."

"What's your name?"

"Damian."

"Hi Damian. I'm Hannah."

Hannah then extended her hand, which Damian took warily.

"You know I could flip you over my back, right?"

"Wow. I didn't, but I'll keep that in mind."

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"

Damian stared up at her, his body completely still. Hannah couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"Damian?" she asked "Are you okay?"

"I learned how to do all that in a class."

"Karate?"

"I guess you could call it that. It's useful."

"How?"

"For trying to escape this place."

"You want to escape? This place seems awesome. I mean, it seems like you've got some really amazing books."

"I already did, twice."

"You did? So you succeeded?"

"Yes."

"Did they bring you back?"

"No."

"You came back yourself?"

"Aren't you brilliant?"

"Why'd you come back, Damian?"

Damian looked down at the pages of his book, his lips quietly moving as if he was reading the text to himself. Hannah wove her fingers together, and waited for a response. This kid was smart; she wanted to know more.

"I came back because I don't have a home anymore."

"This is your home though!" Hannah exclaimed, pointing at the room around her "With Miss. Hensel and all your friends here!"

"This isn't my home. This isn't any of these people's homes and they're fools if they think it is."

"Do you think you'll ever find a home, Damian?"

"How should I know? I can't tell the future. Some can, but I can't."

"You mean a psychic?"

"Most psychic are phonies and I can tell when they are."

"Are you saying that some are real?"

"If they're real, they aren't just psychics."

"Oh, I see."

Hannah didn't really know what to say next. This kid was clever, and extremely opinionated to boot. She didn't have much experience with kids, particularly ones as snappy as Damian.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm waiting for you to say something."

"Well, I don't have anything else to say, thank you very much. You can leave though because I don't want to talk to you anymore and I want to keep reading this book."

"The Art of War?"

"Yes. Leave me alone."

"You know, I've actually read that book."

"I don't believe you."

"For such a smart kid, you really stick to stereotypes."

"And I don't believe that's your business."

"You're right, but people usually stick their noses into other people's business anyway."

"How about you be the better person then?"

"Nobody is really better."

"That's what you think. Now, go away please. For real this time."

"Okay. Bye, Damian."

He snorted, and turned a page in his book. Obviously done with their conversation, he turned, shifting himself away from Hannah. Damian fascinated her, so her mind started clicking, trying to think of a way to see him again.

Hannah didn't like kids, mainly because they were messy and sometimes kind of dumb, but Damian's intellect seemed far above all the other little ten year olds she met. Reluctantly, she pulled herself to her feet, and walked in another direction. She saw a kid with some toy cars, who was making very loud "Brrrr" noises.

"Hey, I'm Hannah. Mind if I play with you?"

The kid nodded, and she sat down.

Hannah played with the kids for an hour, and then went downstairs to work at the clothing drive. She stayed their till 6 PM. When they started cleaning everything up, Hannah tried to avoid Sarah Hensel, succeeding mostly.

Finally, when their work was done, Hannah jumped into her car and drove home. She planned to study some of Jason's video diaries again to see if she could pick up any more clues. It would be hard for her; she hadn't touched them since she first discovered them.

After she arrived to her house, she climbed up a flight of stairs to her room. She opened her drawers, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and her favorite big sweatshirt. She then trampled down the kitchen, put a kettle on the stove, and then brewed a pot of chai tea. Pulling the refrigerator door open, she grabbed a gallon of milk. In the cabinet, she found some sugar. Creating the perfect cup of tea, she smiled. Part of her desperately wanted to watch the video diaries again. She wanted to see his face again, even if it was from several years ago. However, the other part of her knew it wouldn't help her; it would only make her feel worse. Knowing, hearing Jason talk about going on that fateful mission that killed him . . .

Her soul was conflicted. She didn't know what she wanted in this world. Before this all happened, she thought she might know, that she might have gotten over her loses. When she uncovered the videos, the wounds were ripped open again, creating a vortex in her that needed to be closed. Hannah knew she couldn't seal it shut with anything, which scared her.

Would she have to live like this forever?

Inwardly going crazy every second of every day?

It was a constant battle inside of her. Seeing his face made her feel bittersweet, but in a blissful way. When the rush was done, and the images were done dancing on her screen, the rush died down and she was low, too low.

After she finished her cup of tea, she ran back upstairs. She stared at her laptop, neatly situated on her desk.

 _Don't do it. The low will be took much._

She took a few steps forward.

 _But you might learn another clue about Batman!_

With that, she snatched her laptop, and plopped down on her bed. She then knelt down on the ground, crawling over the surface. After counting to the twelfth floor board, she tapped on it three times. A beeping noise rang out, and the floorboard popped open. There, in the floor, was a secret compartment. In the compartment was a metal box with a keyboard. She typed in the password, _24602,_ and the box's lid slid off. Inside, there was a small cloth page, one that was used to hold jewelry. She opened it, pulling out the hard drive.

When she was seventeen, her Mom insisted she installed a safe in her room because there was a jewelry thief masquerading as a cat wandering around. Hannah was reluctant, mainly because she believed her Mom was overreacting. Finally it proved useful.

She plugged the hard drive into her laptop, then pulled up the files.

Hannah started from the beginning, watching each and every entry. Some of them were short and simple, so she only watched them once through. Others were much longer and contained a lot more information, so she watched them over and over again. One particular video fascinated her . . . One where Jason was upset, but not over some villainous plot. He was upset over Batman.

"October 3rd, 2009," he started.

This time, he wasn't wearing his uniform, something that he usually had on in every entry. He wore a simple white tank top, which was the only thing that she could see in the perimeters of the screen.

"Today has been awful. I got into a fight with B—Batman."

Jason sighed, and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. Unlike the other videos, he wasn't sweaty. He seemed . . . clean.

 _Huh._

"Today, we were out busting a sex trade ring, and I—I cracked someone neck."

He paused.

"Quite honestly . . . he deserved it. The bastard was inflicted pain onto so many innocent women and—and kids! He deserved every pain, every bit of torment he inflicted on those girls on himself. I was merciful to kill him."

He sighed.

"Batman doesn't agree—Batman says we have to ship them off to Arkham Asylum or some other shitty prison where they'll just escape from along with the Joker and the Riddler."

He leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward again.

"Damn his stupid moral codes!"

The next thing he did started Hannah so much that she jumped. He banged the table that his computer was sitting on him.

"Damn him! Damn him and his stupid, idiotic moral codes!"

"Jason," Hannah whispered to herself, reaching out and touching the screen.

Apparently a glass of water was sitting on the table because she heard the shattering sound of glass.

"Fuck," Jason muttered.

He then leaned forward and shut the video off.

"What the hell?" Hannah exclaimed, pressing the off button on her computer.

She leaned backward, stretching her back and her arms. A small groan escaped from her lips, and she flopped back onto her bed.

"Wait, the hard drive."

She repeated the procedure, and unlocked the safe. Gently dropping the hard drive into the jewelry bag, she closed the safe, put the floor board back in its place, and got back up to her feet.

Her stomach lurched. She dashed towards the bathroom, and vomited in the toilet. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She vomited again, the gross taste in her mouth growing stronger and stronger.

Hannah made herself sick.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, it happened more often than not. Whenever she was scared of upset, her stomach would just switch on her, and erupt inside of her.

People often underestimate the power of the brain, what it is exactly able to do. In Hannah's case, it could make her sick by not channeling her emotions and feeling in an orderly fashion.

When the vomiting stopped, Hannah sat down in front of the toilet, staring down at the yellowish mixture of water and puke in the toilet.

She cried.

 **A/N:**

 **Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest update. I wrote it pretty quickly, so its probably not my best, but hey! I wanted to talk a little more about Damian. I added the ending part where she watched the video diary yesterday. The inspiration for that scene came from Batman: Under the Red Hood movie. Under the Red Hood is one of my favorite Batman movies, and it really talks a lot about Robin. This story actually takes place between BvS and Under the Red Hood. I don't know if that means I'm going to write a sequel to this story, but who knows?**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Barry is coming back. Although he's only been in one chapter so far, he's kind of important. As for what's bothering him . . . Haha, you'll have to find out! ;)**

 **Please favorite/follow/review!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	8. Chapter 8

_Dear Jason,_

 _I met a kid today and I think he's kind of special. At the orphanage, I was sent upstairs to talk to some of the kids, and there was this kid named Damian. I remembered him from the gala when the lady, Sarah Hensel, showed us a slide show of a bunch of their wards. Damian is a fascinating kid. First off, he's smart, insanely smart. He's also witty; he had a comeback for everything I said._

 _You won't believe what he was reading! Our book, The Art of War! I find it crazy to believe that a ten year old could be reading such a tough piece of literature! Well, that's one of the reasons I liked him so much. He's unexpected._

 _I am definitely going to check in on him. He's too special to just completely forget. You know who he reminds me of? Take a guess? You. He has your eyes and your silly little sneer. He's smart like you, as well as sarcastic. He also likes one of your favorite books._

 _The sad thing is, he doesn't have a home. He told me his mother, Thalia, is dead. He doesn't know who his father is, and if he's even still alive. What if he stays at the orphanage for the rest of his childhood? What if he never gets adopted? That worries me . . . It really does._

 _Yeah, it's stupid. I know. It's just my sticky mind again. Part of me thinks I'll forget him. The other parts says I won't. Only time will tell._

 _I miss you a lot, you know? And it's little things like these, similarities, that make me miss you so much more. How are you doing? Hah, that's a stupid question. You didn't believe in Heaven, and I don't really know if it's for real. Well, I guess you know the question to the age old question now._

 _I miss you._

 _Much Love,_

 _Hannah_

She went to bed that night feeling disgusting. Dried vomit clung to her hair, and messed up mascara stained her cheeks. As soon as she hit her bed, she fell asleep. Usually, she found herself plagued by dreams, memories of times past, but not at first. All she saw was black, an immeasurable amount of black. The common images of Jason nowhere to be found.

She woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for no reason.

 _2:30 AM._

"Shit."

Hannah laid back on her bed, falling asleep again shortly.

This time, she dreamed.

 _"_ _He's dead, Hannah," a voice called._

 _It was urgent and strong, yet somewhat familiar._

 _"_ _No!" she screamed back._

 _She was in a room with tall ceiling with enormous, beautiful stain glass windows with light streaming in. The windows had a picture of Moses holding out his rod of the Red Sea._

 _"_ _Hannah, listen to me please!" the voice called out again._

 _Hannah collapsed to the marble floor, her wrists throbbing at contact. She sat back on her haunches, and lifted her wrists to her mouth. Blood trickled down her arms._

 _"_ _Why are they bleeding?" she muttered, sucking at the blood._

 _She looked up in front of her; a scream escaped her lips._

 _"_ _Jason!"_

 _Jumping to her feet, she darted forward, falling in front of a form. He had blood trickling out of his mouth, as well as a deep, horrifying gash across his throat. His beautiful black hair was matted, sticking to his forehead. She gingerly tried to brush it out of his face, but immediately regretted it. His eyes were open, and stared up at her, completely void of any life_

 _"_ _No, no, no, no, no!" she screamed "No!"_

 _"_ _Hannah?" the voice called out again, sounding closer._

 _"_ _He isn't dead. He can't be!"_

 _"_ _Hannah."_

 _"_ _Yahweh?" she exclaimed, her voice going horse._

 _Her eyes went up to the stain glass window on the ceiling. Moses's rod moved, causing the Red Sea's waves to ripple._

 _"_ _Where are you?"_

 _"_ _Don't worry. You're safe. I'm here," the voice called again._

 _It sounded familiar. She couldn't place where she'd heard the voice before, but all she knew was that it was comforting. Her breathing started to slow down, and the blood on her wrists started to dry up._

 _"_ _I'm here."_

 _"_ _Wh—"_

 _"_ _I'm here."_

 _"_ _Where do I know you from?"_

 _"_ _I promise you, I'm here."_

When Hannah woke up, it was morning. Her alarm was buzzing in her ear, yet the voice she heard still rang through her head.

"Am I going crazy?"

She pulled herself out of bed, and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the vomit riddled knots out of her hair.

"Disgusting!"

She started a shower, and once she stepped under the hot stream of water, she gasped. As her body adjusted to the temperature, she sat down on the tiled floor. Her mind replayed the dream in her head. Like most of her dreams, she remembered every single part, from Moses's moving staff to the deathly look in Robin's eyes. The voice also resounded in her head.

 _"_ _I'm here."_

Hannah grabbed her shampoo bottle, and poured some of it into her hand. She lathered it into her hair, letting a little bit get into her eyes. As soon as it started to sting, she grabbed a wash cloth and tried to get the shampoo out of her eyes. She rinsed it out, repeating the process with conditioner. After she rinsed it out of her hair, she stood up, turned off the water, and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around her waist, she stepped out of her bathroom and walked over to her closet.

She planned to visit Lex today; it'd been a while. Hopefully, he would be up to talking a little more about what was going on. Finding out about the finger prints would take a while, so this seemed like the only thing she could do right now.

After sifting through her closet, she picked a simple pair of black slacks, and a dark purple blouse. She blow dried her hair, then pulled it up into a thick ponytail. Then, she pulled on a pair of black heels, grabbed her purse, and headed down the stairs.

Time really seemed to fly for the next thing she knew, she was in front of the jail Lex was being held at currently. She was a little nervous; this was her first time visiting a client in jail alone. Even though it was just Lex, her heart still almost leapt out of her chest.

The jail house was dreary and lonely. It was larger than the police station, scarier, more disturbing. When she walked through the doors, everyone turned and stared at her. She chewed on her lip slowly.

"Hi, I'm Hannah Hochberg, Alexander Luthor's lawyer. I'm here to see him."

The guard at the front desk stared at her.

"Excuse me?"

"N—nothing. Please can I see your I.D.?"

Hannah pulled it out, and handed it to the man. He took it, examined it, and then nodded slowly.

"Please leave all your personal belonging in the bin."

"Of course."

She smiled prettily, obeying his request. He gestured her towards the security area; she followed. After security, he led her back through the eerie halls of the jail.

"Mr. Luthor is right in her, ma'am."

"Thank you."

Just like the first time, there was a metal table bolted to the ground. On either side, there were two metal chairs, and in the center of the table there was a pair of hand cuffs.

"Sit down, ma'am. I'll bring him there shortly."

Staying true to his word, he brought Lex. He handcuffed him down to the table, then rapped them against the table to make out they were secure. Once he did that, he nodded curtly at Hannah, who smiled kindly back at him. As soon as he left she turned to Lex.

He looked horrid.

His head had been shaved, which looked startlingly ugly. For all his life, Lex had a head full of hair, so his lack of it here on his head made him seem a little . . . Less Lex?

"How are you?" Hannah asked, leaning forward a little bit.

Lex shifted in his seat.

"Fine, fine."

His words came out smoother than last time, indicating that he was a little calmer. His eyes were still bloodshot, and dark circles under his eyes were visible.

"So—I've been working on your case and I think I've got a lead—"

"Excellent."

"You don't seem like you mean that."

Lex sighed.

"Life here is—is difficult. Sitting in a cell all day really gives you time to think."

"About what?"

"What's coming—Wh—what's going to happen."

Hannah leaned back in her seat, reached into her purse and pulled out a pin. She started tapping it on the table, which she found extremely therapeutic.

"Feel like telling me about it this time?"

"No."

"Damn it, Lex! This could get you off!"

"Love the welcoming spirit, Hannah."

"I am your best friend! At quite honestly, I'm the only one you have right now so you need to tell me what's up with this 'something bad is going to happen' act, or you're going to rot in prison for the rest off your life, unable to do anything about this so called asteroid the size of Texas that's coming to crash into the Earth."

"I never understood why you liked Armageddon. It really doesn't—"

"Don't go back to the old Lex right now, okay? We're not here to discuss Bruce Willis movies. We're here to get your ass out of here. And if something bad is going to happen like you say it is, you need to tell me because I have friends in high places that can help you, us."

Lex leaned forward, placing his head on the table in front of him. Hannah reached out, and put a hand awkwardly on his shoulder. She could hear Lex breathing heavily, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He was trying to control himself, better than he did last time anyway.

"Just let it out, Lex," she whispered soothingly.

She paused. Images from her dream flashed through her head.

"I'm here," she quoted, patting his shoulder "I'm here."

He sat up, his handcuffs clanking against the table.

"Have you ever imagined the Apocalypse, Hannah? You know, like from the book of Revelations?"

"That's from the New Testament. Only Christians believe in that; I'm Jewish."

"Like you follow that stuffy old religion anyway—"

"Excuse me?"

"In the book of Revelations, there is the rapture, where millions of people disappear from the Earth in the blink of an eye. The ones whose names are in the Lamb's Book of Life, that is. The rest of the people? Well, jokes on them because they're stuck here on Earth, all alone, godless, bracing themselves because time is seven years away from erupting, swallowing them up into darkness. Or hell, whatever you like to call it."

"Okay, thanks for the Bible lesson, but you need to tell me what's going on now."

"The last seven years on Earth is when the Apocalypse will take place, or at least that's what people are saying—"

"Lex, this doesn't make any sense. You need to tell me something useful . . . You mentioned Jason. I found out who he—"

"Apocalypse isn't an event, Hannah. It isn't a period of time to be waited for, helplessly. It's a place. A physical place that you can touch, a place you can see."

"Are you talking about hell?"

"No, no. I'm talking about a place . . . a place that can only be reached from their side because they're so, so, so much stronger. They're great, greater. They can kill us all if we let them—they have _seen_ us!"

Hannah dropped her pen onto the table.

"What the hell?"

"Apocalypse is coming. It's coming, I swear."

"If it's a place, how can it be coming?"

Lex opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. He mumbled something under his breath.

"Lex, you got to speak up."

"You have to see it, Hannah. It's something words can't explain, at least not yet. We're not smart enough—not smart enough to defeat whatever the hell it is."

"Does this have to do with Superman?"

"God is dead."

"Superman wasn't God, and you know it. Let me be more frank . . . Does this have anything to do with Superman."

"God is dead," Lex repeated, his voice low and shaky.

He started to laugh like a psychotic criminal, throwing his head back, and letting out a laugh so eerie and awful it sent shivers down her spine. Lex started to choke, causing him to lift his head up again.

"We."

He paused.

"Are."

He snatched Hannah's pen.

"Ants."

He tossed it up in the air and caught it.

"This time, we won't have God to catch us because he is going to be snatched out of Heaven, right along with Dad, right along with Jason, right along with Clark."

"Who the hell is Clark?"

"You found out about Jason, huh? That he was the Batman's sidekick for so many years. Sadly, he got—"

Lex stopped, and slid his finger across his throat menacingly.

"What is wrong with you?" Hannah whispered, lowering her voice so no one could hear her "You committed a crime, a horrendous one. You killed multiple people who were innocent. Completely innocent. They were trying to help make the world a better place, yet you destroyed them."

Hannah grabbed her pen out of his hands. Lex clearly wasn't in his right mind. He muttered and rambled on and on about Biblical prophesies and the Apocalypse to an extent that it physically hurt her to listen to his voice. What he said was ludicrous.

Sure, their world had Superman, an alien from another planet. He could be explained by science, a far off science that someone, somewhere could understand. However, what Lex talked about was crazy, something that went beyond the realms of science and into the realms of faith. A crazy faith; a psychotic one.

He spoke of the Apocalypse, an Armageddon if you will.

He was insane.

Maybe it was because Hannah didn't have the patience or strength to deal with him today, or maybe it was because her eyes were finally opening to the truth. She wasn't all powerful; she couldn't fix his mind.

"Well, well, well, well, well, well," Lex said, his voice surprisingly calm after Hannah's accusations "You're being an asshat, aren't you?"

"I am speaking to you as your lawyer, and not your friend. You are in serious trouble if you haven't figure it out now, so you need to either plead guilty or tell me something I can fucking work with."

"Don't be so cynical."

"Says the person who was so cynical he blew of the Capitol building of the United States."

"I told you—"

"Because we're living in Independence Day, right?"

Hannah scoffed. She stuck the pen back into her bag.

"I have to stay professional, Lex. I need to be ethical. Yes, you can chose what way you want to plead; that is your right, but you're crazy. I'm sorry, but you are. Whatever happens, I am definitely getting you some medical help."

Lex didn't reply to her. He stayed as still as a station, his eyes staring directly at her. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes glittered in amusement.

"There it is again!" Hannah exclaimed.

"What?"

"One minutes you're all desperate, and the next you're all amused."

"I'm your best friend. You shouldn't be surprised."

"I don't know you anymore, Lex."

"What?"

"You could go to Arkham. Along with the Riddler, the Penguin, Th—the Joker."

Lex sighed.

"You are brilliant, Hannah. Your mind is a step above everyone else's. You are one of the few geniuses that walks on this planet," he said slowly.

"My SAT scored were pretty high," Hannah quipped back.

"Now that's the Hannah I know!"

She rolled her eyes. Part of her appreciated Lex's attempts to make some kind of peace, especially when there was such a large riff between them. Bombing a public place, particularly a government building like that was enough to drive a wedge between two people. She wanted to take Lex's case, but she wasn't so sure she could get him out free. Quite honestly, she knew he needed to go get some psychiatric help. He needed to go to an asylum, like Arkham. Lex needed to talk to some counselors, and help resolve some of these underlying issues, particularly the ones about him freaking out about the Apocalypse.

"Alright, Lex . . . I need to go now. Y'know, to work and get this damn case off it's feet."

"I appreciate the effort."

Hannah got to her feet, and rolled her eyes.

"Finally someone does."

"Ah, there's something bothering you—ou—outside of all this. Tell me."

"Seriously?"

"Why not? You used to complain to me about all your drama before."

"If you haven't guess, we're not living in 'before' anymore."

"Well, that's a valid point there, but still—"

It was in moments like these that Hannah felt so weak. Yeah, she told Lex basically everything before all this bullshit happened, but he was a criminal now. He was a new person.

"None of your business, Lex. I got to go, but for real this time. I'll see you."

Lex waved reluctantly, and Hannah got to her feet. The guard walked through the door, unlocked Lex from the table.

"Thank you," she told the guard.

He nodded at her.

"Bye, bye Miss. Hochberg!" Lex called out, his voice shrill and tight.

"Goodbye Mr. Luthor."

He waved again, a deep laugh erupting from his throat. The sound of his voice made Hannah winch. There he was again, going a little bit crazier every single goddamn day.

As she drove off from the jail, she let out a deep breath. Every part of her felt tense and tired; she wanted to sleep. Everything that had been happening to her was driving her nuts. Also, the fact Barry hadn't called her back was torturous. Not knowing about the results of the fingerprints was enough to drive anyone mad.

She flipped on the radio, hoping that some nonsensical would come on to distract her.

 _And for some more interesting news, millionaire mogul Lex Luthor has just bought his ticket to freedom. He's higher hot-shot lawyer Hannah Hochberg to take on his case. She just graduated Ivy League, and she's ready to join the big boys. Although she may be little, she is fierce! You might have recognized her last name . . . Her parents are Abraham and Lea Hochberg, oil tycoons from Gotham. Her daddy is best buds with the Bruce Wayne, except he's been able to keep a gal, am I right?"_

Hannah's heart skipped a beat as she listened to the voice resounding from the radio.

"No, no, no, no, no!" she screamed, her fingers clinching the steering wheel even tighter "This can't be happening! Hell no!"

She swerved to the side of the road. Her head started to throb, her thoughts swirling around and around in her head. She opened her mouth, desperate to scream again, but nothing came out.

Nothing.

Her mind asked her who could have told this information. She tried to keep her visits with Lex under the radar, and she wasn't a paparazzi magnet like some people. She hadn't told Iris, Joe, or Barry the specifics. Besides, why would they tell? She hadn't told her parents, not any of the people in her social circles.

There was just one person . . .

 _Fuck._

"Dammit Bruce, I'm gonna kill you!"

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Everyone! What is up? So this week has been a good writing week for this story. I've popped out a couple of updates in a couple of days which makes me feel good, and I hope it makes ya'll happy. This chapter was fun to write mainly because Lex is in it and he's just an interesting guy. Yes, he did tell Hannah about Apocalypse, but like I said before, this story won't contain any Steppenwolfe, Darkseid, or Apocalypse. Just a couple of references. :)**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Damian does remind Hannah of Jason. If you really think about it, they're actually kind of similar.**

 **Vengeous - Welcome to this story! Good guess! That will be addressed in the next few chapters. Sadly, that conversation doesn't really go smoothly . . .**

 **Thank you again for taking the time to read my story! Please favorite/follow/review!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	9. Chapter 9

_Dear Jason,_

 _He's insane._

 _Lex is literally insane._

 _Yes, I know he has had some wild ideas in the past, but this is beyond wild. This is ludicrous, a rolling mass of nothingness thrashing wildly around in his head. As people, I think we are all a little crazy and we are allowed to be that way, but there is a fine line between crazy and insanity. He leapt over that land, dashing off into some kind of la la land where everything is . . . not real. Before I went to jail to visit him this time, I wanted to be able to jump behind his eyes; seeing what he sees. However, after this whole debacle, I don't know if I want to see now. I have no idea why I took this case anymore. I don't know him any more._

 _As if that was the only shitty news of the day . . ._

 _On the radio, the host was talking about how I was Lex's lawyer. It's all over the news now! There were at least twenty paparazzi buzzing around my house when I got home. I didn't talk to them though. My parents weren't home at the time, but they should be now. I have no idea what they'll say. They certainly wouldn't be proud._

 _They raised their beloved, Jewish little girl to be better than this . . . To be "ethical." I know I have to face them at some point. Still, I'd rather hid in my bedroom, murmuring a silent prayer to whatever angel happens to be nearby. You know that I've always wanted to please my parents, and how I bummed them out when I told them my decision to go to law school instead of inherit Dad's business. I told you all of that. They put on brave faces though, silencing any complaints they had regarding the topic. They were patient and kind. They put up with all the bullshit I put them through as I embarked on my college journey, as well as bringing home my "slacking boyfriend." I doubt they could take it anymore._

 _They loved Lex when he was my friend, but their opinions have changed. I've talked to them about it, and they think he's scum of the Earth and a compete mess of evil. The thing is, I think that too, but now it's too late. I can't back out because all eyes are on me._

 _I looked at some news articles, and they were all saying stuff about how I going to make history with this case._

 _It's scary, Jason._

 _The whole world is watching me now, ready for me to make my first public move. I knew this case was going to be big, but this is a giant, something far too big for me._

 _History has its eyes on me._

 _I'm scared._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

She paced back and forth for two hour.

When she arrived back at the house, she sprinted upstairs, hoping to avoid the maids and butler. Now, she was sure at least her Father was home, and she didn't want to face him. Her frantic brain imagined his face a million times when she walked down the stairs . . . The disappointment; the shame. She could imagine the light draining out of his eyes, growing void of emotion.

She sat down on her bed, her back straight as a pole. The seconds turned into hours as the inched by impossibly slow. Hannah sighed.

"Hannah?"

A loud knock resounded throughout her room.

"Dad?"

The door opened, and her dad came into her room. Hannah slouched, looking down at her knees. She chewed on her bottom lip, drawing a little blood.

"You always chew your lip when you're nervous."

"You think?"

Abraham stroked his chin slowly, his eyes trained upon her face.

"Hannah, I saw something on the news, and I must say, it gave me quite the surprise."

Hannah shrugged, trying to brush it off. She couldn't hear any emotion in his voice; it sounded ambiguous. She looked up at him. His wise grey eyes glowed dully, and just like his voice, showed no signs of emotion.

"What'd you see?"

"Something about you old—friend."

"Oh."

"Hannah, honey. You know what I'm talking about."

Hannah jumped to her feet a big scowl plastered across her face.

"You know what, Dad? I don't care. I'm twenty-six years old, which means I am no longer a child! I don't need your permission for anything anymore. I am an adult and I can chose what I want to do with my life. I chose to defend Lex. I did!"

Abraham didn't flinch. He stood as straight as a statue, his eyes turning slightly darker. She could tell her was now angry, but was choosing to bottle it all up inside of him.

"Did you notice that every sentence you just said started with 'I'?" Abraham asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hannah started to protest, but he held his hand up.

"Yes, this your life, Hannah. You can chose to do what you want, but life isn't about yourself. It's not about making yourself the greatest, it's about making yourself the least, sacrificing most everything. That is what life is about, lowering yourself—"

"To be a doormat?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? Is this a fucking joke?"

"Watch your language."

"Why? Because the Torah says I can't?"

"Hannah—"

"Please stop, okay? I get it. You don't like it, but as I said earlier, you don't get to tell me what to do."

"Hannah, please."

"Dammit Dad! Get out of my room. You're just as much as a disappointment to me as I am to you and Mom."

With that, Abraham couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Young lady, you are a disgrace! A disgrace! Your involvement with this case is shameful!"

"There it is! That's what I wanted to hear! I knew all this calmness was fake!"

"You will not speak that way about your Mother!"

"Yell at me all you want, but I'm not a little kid that you can just punish anymore!"

Abraham turned towards the door.

"What're you going to do?" Hannah yelled, her hands on her hips.

She was livid, anger bubbling up inside of her like a flowing fountain. All of her senses seemed to fly out of her body. Abraham turned back to her, a grim look on his face. His anger seemed to cool.

"Pray," he said sadly.

He then left.

Hannah groaned.

 _One parent down, one more to go._

She flopped back down on her bad, and stared up at the ceiling. Time slipped by, slower and slower than before. She felt as if her soul was slowly being sucked out of her body, scattered into the wind like a handful of sand. Taking in a deep breath, she blew it out, trying to calm her racing heart. It beat rapidly in her chest, which made chest ache. As her heart calmed down, her eye lids grew heavy. Sleepiness overcame her, and she nodded off.

She did dream again, only this time it wasn't as vividly. In the swirling display of colors, she caught a glance of Jason's face. Blood dripped town from his brow, and dribbled towards his chin. His parched lips were slightly open, barely displaying a row of pearly white teeth. A little bit of his black locks stuck to his forehead from the shiny sweat.

Hannah moaned at the picture of him, the feeling of a dagger being stuck into her heart growing. The image was then swallowed back up into the colorful mist, replaced by one of her frowning parents, looming eerily, the looks of disappointment on their faces prominently shown.

When she woke up, her head throbbed.

"Ugh," she muttered, setting her on the ground.

She rubbed her forehead, trying to relieve the sickening pulse in her head.

"Miss. Hannah?"

The door to her bedroom opened, and Eden poked her head through the door.

"Hey Eden," Hannah called, gesturing for her to come in.

Eden stepped into the room, a smile playing across her lips. In her hand, she held a mug.

"I brought you some tea. It seemed like you needed one."

"Tell me about it."

Eden walked over towards her, and handed her the mug. Hannah gratefully accepted it, then gently blew across the top. A little bit of steam floated over the side from when she blew. She took a step, and sighed.

"Mmmm! This is SO good!"

"Well, chai tea is your favorite."

They sat in silence as Hannah drank her tea. Eden pushed a strand of her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"Are you alright?" Eden finally asked.

Hannah shrugged, and took another sip.

"It's just . . . Arthur was watching the news in the kitchen and—"

"He saw that I'm defending Lex Luthor," Hannah finished, adjusting the mug in her hand "I know."

"I try not to eavesdrop because all people deserve their privacy, but I couldn't help but here your parents talking."

"Ah, so Mom's home? How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple of hours, I think."

"Oh."

"They're mad, Miss. Hannah."

"Thank you for stating the obvious."

"They shouldn't be though."

Hannah stared at Eden, raising her eyebrow in surprise.

"Really?"

"You know, I probably never told you this, but my Mom was well . . . murdered and—"

"Holy shit! I am so sorry! I—"

"My father was accused of well . . . murdering her, and he went to trial. Of course he didn't kill her; he loved my Mother more than anything in this world. If it wasn't for his defense lawyers, however, he'd be sitting on death row as we speak. The defense was even able to prove who did kill my Mom."

She paused.

"Everyone in this world deserves a chance to clear their name, including my Dad, and, as crazy as his offense seems, Lex Luthor. Save a life, Miss. Hannah. It's a noble thing to do."

Hannah smiled weakly.

"Thank you."

Eden nodded, then stood up.

"I'll leave you now," Eden told her.

With that, she walked out the door.

Hannah smiled a little.

 _At least someone agrees with me._

She took a big gulp of her tea, finishing off the mug. The empty feeling in her heart closed up a little bit, but it still ached madly. Hannah tried to come to terms with the fact that she'd never see it filled again. Still, that didn't take away the pain.

She cleaned herself up a little bit, removing her makeup and brushing out her curly hair and tying it up into a tight ponytail. After putting on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, she pulled and random book off her shelf and flipped through it.

It was a cat owner's guide.

 _"_ _Jason!" Hannah yelled, flinging the door to his room open._

 _Her curly hair bounced around her shoulders, and her big brown eyes were opened with shock. A few tears glistened at the corners of her eyes, begging to come out._

 _"_ _Baby?" Jason asked, sitting up straight._

 _He'd been relaxing on his bed, reading a book. Hannah wasn't supposed to have come for another two hours, when they planned to have dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant and then come home to watch one of her favorite movies, Pearl Harbor._

 _Jason quickly noticed that something wasn't right. His girl was on the boarder of hysterical, which was something he was not okay with at all._

 _Hannah quickly sat down next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her._

 _"_ _What's wrong?" he asked, brushing her hair gently._

 _"_ _Scout got out of the house, and was hit by a car!" she cried, tears starting to pour out of her eyes._

 _Jason grimaced. Scout was Hannah's beloved cat, one she'd had for close to six years. He liked to joke that she loved Scout more than him, which she'd always agree with. After he would raise his eyebrows quizzically, she'd laugh and exclaim that she was joking._

 _"_ _I'm so sorry," he whispered, pulling her in closer._

 _He loved the way Hannah seemed to fit into his side like a puzzle piece. That was one of the many reasons he was convinced that she was his best girl._

 _"_ _I miss her!" Hannah replied, drying her eyes._

 _"_ _I do too."_

 _She sighed, and pulled back. Jason carefully wiped away whatever was left of the tears, then inspected her face carefully. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her cheeks were stained with mascara that trickled down her face along with the tears._

 _"_ _Look at me," she mumbled "a college student that's crying like an idiot over a cat."_

 _"_ _At least you look beautiful when you cry."_

 _Hannah scoffed. Jason jumped up from the bed, and walked into his bathroom, returning with a box of tissues. She accepted them gratefully, pulling one out to blow her nose with._

 _"_ _I feel awful."_

 _"_ _Yeah."_

 _"_ _I'm sorry, but I really don't want to go get dinner right now."_

 _"_ _Whatever you want, baby girl. We can order pizza, watch your movie, or just hang out up here."_

 _"_ _Seeing Josh Hartnett's beautiful face actually seems pretty awesome right now."_

 _"_ _Hey!"_

 _Hannah giggled, and threw a pillow at Jason, which he quickly deflected._

 _"_ _I just want you to be happy, okay?"_

 _Hannah grinned._

 _"_ _I think I can oblige."_

 _"_ _Good because you being happy makes me happy."_

 _He kissed the top of her head softly, which made her giggle._

 _"_ _Happy? You? You're Mister I'm-dark-and-brooding-and-I-just-can't-smile."_

 _"_ _Things have changed though."_

 _"_ _Really? How?"_

 _"_ _Well, for starters, I met you, which was pretty life-changing."_

 _"_ _My god, you're so corny!"_

 _"_ _I know. It's shocking. Let's go order some pizza now, okay?"_

 _"_ _Okay."_

Hannah gently put the book back in its place. She never got a new cat after Scout, but she had a framed picture of Jason's holding her, a look of terror on his face. Jason wasn't a cat person to say the least. Scout was also very suspicious of him

Brinngggggg!

 _My phone!_

She reached out, snatching her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Hannah. It's Barry. Barry Allen."

Hannah jumped up from the floor, where she'd been reading the book.

"Hi!—Hi! How are you?"

"Oh, me? I—I'm okay. Just a little busy and all but I got your lab work results back."

"Yes?"

"I mailed the glass and—uh—batarang back to you today. I got your address from Iris. You should get them soon."

"What about the lab results?"

"Lab results! Right! Okay, so I didn't find anything."

Hannah's heart sank.

"Yeah, Mr. Wayne's finger prints were on the glass. He had a DUI at one point apparently back when he was in college. Something about jello shots in a car with some women who had their—um—what's the right word? Bosoms displayed—for everyone to see. How's that?"

"Um—okay. I—It's fine. What about the batarang?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?"

"By nothing I mean nothing. Not Mister Wayne's, not anyone else's in the database. There simply weren't any finger prints on it, except for yours. And—um—don't you think Batman would've worn gloves? I mean, it's part of his uniform, right?"

 _Right._

She felt remarkably stupid. Of course Batman wore gloves! All the work she'd put into that stupid batarang was for nothing!

Why would Jason have left it in the book though? He meant for her to find it, right?

The only thing she could think of was . . .

Maybe it wasn't left for her.

She felt sick.

Maybe this one clue, this so called treasure Jason left her was not for her to figure out the truth. Maybe he didn't want her to know about the way he died, or his crime fighting lifestyle.

Maybe he didn't care.

She gulped, trying to hold back the scream.

This couldn't be happening.

Her worst nightmare was coming true.

She stumbled down the stairs, and towards the garage. She had to get out of here.

"Hannah?"

Hannah whirled around to see her mother standing behind her.

"What do you want?" Hannah screamed.

"I need to speak to you."

"No! In god's name, no!"

"Young lady, you come—"

"I AM NOT A LADY DAMMIT!"

She was done.

She was done with parents.

She was done with this house.

She was done with this city.

She had to go somewhere just to get away. The thought of staying in this house for another hour made her feel sick to her stomach.

Barging into the garage, she jumped into her Porsche, and zoomed out.

She didn't know where she was going, but she didn't care.

The sky above her rumbled, as if it could read what was going on in her head. Clouds grew black, and eerie. Hannah didn't notice though. She pressed down on the gas even harder, going faster and faster and faster.

Faster.

That's all she wanted.

Rain poured out of the sky.

Yahweh was crying.

A large, wet tear dribbled out of her eye, and she sucked in a gasp. An urgent sense of loneliness boiling in her stomach.

Loneliness is usually a cold feeling, but for Hannah, it was hot.

The burning sensation grew larger and larger, sending a tingly feeling down her spine. She let the gasp in her throat out as the pain spread over her body.

More tears poured out her eyes, spreading the burning sensation to her face. They clouded up in her eyes, making her vision blurry. She let out a sob.

Through her blurred vision, she thought made out a street sign, and veered.

She veered too much.

As her car slid into the muddy ditch, her head lurched. The airbag blew up in her face, and a stinging feeling erupted on the side of her forehead. She loosened her hands, and reached up.

 _Blood._

She squirmed out from behind the air bag, and glanced up at the rearview mirror. The gash was a lot smaller than she thought. She looked around her, trying to guess what caused the cut.

 _Nothing._

She jumped out of the car, her feet slipping in the mud.

"Ah!"

Her ankle twisted under her.

She collapsed into the mud.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

She looked up at the sky, the rain falling down onto her face. She'd apparently driven outside of Gotham, and was in the middle of nowhere. Pulling herself to my feet, she took a few steps, winching a little bit. Her ankle didn't hurt too much, but she'd felt better before.

She walked a little ways down the road, her clothes sticking onto her body. After walking maybe a mile, she got to an intersection. There was a sign saying Wayne Street.

 _Wayne Street._

A flicker of hope spurted up inside of her.

Bruce had a house out in the country, one that he rarely was at, but still! She was cold and her ankle hurt, and the blood mixing with the rain on her forehead was starting to sting again. It was dumb idea, but Hannah wasn't in the mood for thinking clearly.

She reached up, and tried to blot the cut on her face.

It hurt.

 _I'm going crazy._

She bit down on her lip, drawing blood.

 _To hell with crazy._

 **A/N:**

 **Hello my lovely readers! How are you all? I hope you're having an amazing day, week, month, or year. Thanks for reading the latest chapter of Letters to Robin!**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Ahaha! You do? I'd love to hear what you think!**

 **Vengeous - I didn't like Bruce being villainous either, so that's why he's name will be cleared up eventfully. Things might be looking bad for him, especially in the next chapter, but do not worry. He and Hannah will eventually talk it out, and his name will be cleared (at least for the reader). The things is, some else happens that . . . well . . . complicates things. You'll have to tune in next time to see what happens. ;)**

 **Once again, thank you for reading! I appreciate each and everyone of you. as for the new comers, please leave a favorite/follow/review! Those things mean a lot to me!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	10. Chapter 10

**_There is a lot language and a lot weird things happening under the influence of alcohol in this chapter. Just a warning. :)_**

 _Dear Jason,_

 _I'm so tired._

 _I just want to forget it all._

 _-Hannah_

The hike to Bruce's country house from the sign was a little less than a mile. The road was muddy, and the rain pounded on her body mercilessly. She took in a deep breath, then shivered.

It was cold.

 _Only a little bit longer though._

Little rocks mixed into the mud got into her shoes, making her winch with each step she took. As she drew closer and closer, the house came into her view.

The house was like his Gotham home, regal and old. Only this one seemed larger, more beautiful, and more fitting for the Wayne legacy.

Hannah brushed her wet hair from her eyes, trying to keep her vision from blurring up. She sniffled.

 _Stop crying, dammit!_

Finally, she stumbled up the long driveway of the house, and managed to reach the front door. She let out a deep breath, panting heavily. Her whole body felt so sore; it was unbearable. She didn't even know if Bruce or Alfred would be here. Raising her hand, she banged on the door.

Nothing.

She banged again.

Nothing.

Giving up, she sat down on the porch, covering her head.

At least she wasn't in the rain anymore . . . She let out a sob, tears trickling down her cheeks. Blotting them away, her hands went up and down her face.

"Miss. Hochberg?"

Hannah looked up, and standing in the warm light of the house, stood a tall silhouette. The figure bent down, and hands reached out for her.

"Please stand up. You're not well!"

"Alfred?" she mumbled.

"Come inside! Please!"

Alfred helped Hannah to her feet, and escorted her inside the house. It was a great deal warmer in the beautiful mansion. Unlike the other house, this one was brightly lit, and somewhat homey. From what Hannah knew, this is where a young Bruce spent most of his time with his parents, and that it hadn't been changed much since. Maybe it was the strong yet graceful touch of Martha Wayne that had given the house this feel, and her son had just preserved it.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred called, pushing Hannah further and further into the house "Master Bruce, where are you?"

He dragged Hannah into the kitchen, making her sit down in a chair. Neatly brushing the rest of her hair out of her face, he knelt down, and tugged her shoes off. Mud and water spilled out of them and got all over Alfred's clothes. The butler didn't seem to care, however, for he then pulled off her socks. He left them in a pile on the floor.

"You must be freezing," the older man muttered "Let me make you some tea!"

He jumped to his feet, and put a kettle on the stove. Turning the dial to high, he pulled out a container of loose leaf tea and a mug.

"It'll be just a moment."

"Alfred? Wait, Hannah?"

Bruce appeared in front of her, and knelt down.

"What are you doing? You're all wet!"

"I thought that was obvious," she mumbled.

Bruce frowned, and ran his hand up and down her arms, trying to create some warmth.

"You're freezing," Bruce murmured "Alfred, go upstairs and get her something to change into."

He gently placed a hand on his cheek.

"Mmmm, you feel a little feverish, Hannah."

Hannah smiled weakly. He grabbed a cloth from a cabinet, wet it under the sink, and put it to her forehead to clean up the blood. By this time, the cut had stopped bleeding, and it was caked with blood. The tea kettle whistled on the stove, so Bruce sprang to his feet.

"I'm not good and making tea but—" Bruce snatched the tea kettle, and poured some tea over the tea bag into the mug "This'll be better than nothing."

He handed it to Hannah, who tried to take it, but her hands shook violently. Bruce frowned, and set the mug down. Gently taking her hands, he rubbed them together in his hands.

"What are you doing here?"

"Mm?"

"Hannah, listen to me. What's wrong? Why are you here?"

"I—uh—"

At this point, Hannah was starting to shiver even more. She also felt a little light headed and sickly. Bruce noticed that her cheeks were starting to look flushed.

"My c—car. It crashed, and—I—I walked here."

Bruce's brow furrowed up.

"Why were you in the area?"

"I—I—"

"Shh, it's okay. Just drink your tea and stay here for a second."

Hannah nodded as he got to his feet. He came back in a few seconds, holding something.

"I—uh—don't have any clothes your size, so this'll have to work."

He handed her two things, which she took thankfully. It was a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"You can change. I'll be back."

As soon as he left, she slipped out of her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Bruce's gray sweatpants were enormous on her, pooling around her feet. She pulled on the drawstrings, and they were still too big, but at least they weren't slipping off her body that way. The shirt hung loosely on her shoulders and came down to the middle of her thighs. One of her shoulder slipped out of the collar. The clothes smelled like Bruce . . . musky, warm and comforting, something she wouldn't have imagined from someone who seemed so . . . well, like Bruce.

She took a sip of her tea, savoring the hot flavor rolling over her tongue. She choked. It didn't seem right. It scaled her tongue, and left a weird taste in her mouth.

"Hey."

Bruce was standing in the doorway.

"Do you want me—uh—Alfred to drive you home? We can leave as soon as you start warming up and—"

"Can I stay?"

"Stay? Yeah, if you want. Alfred can make up one of the guest rooms."

"T—thanks."

"Come to the library. We can wait there while Alfred's getting that all set up with you."

He offered her his arm, which she took. Once they got into the library, they sat down on a couch. Bruce sighed as Hannah curled up on the couch. He sat their awkwardly for a few minutes, watching her shift around uncomfortably.

"You want a book?"

"Mm . . . No."

"Okay."

Hannah sat up, and pulled absentmindedly on a curl, which was now drying. Her eyes gazed around the library, going up and down each bookshelf. Her turning gaze stopped.

"Can I have some?"

Bruce looked.

"That?"

"Yeah, a drink actually sounds really good right about now."

He frowned, staring at his desk. On it was sitting a couple glasses and a bottle of whisky.

"That might not be a good idea—"

"Holy shit, Bruce. Everybody has been telling me what to do! Not you too!"

"Okay then."

He grabbed a glass, and filled it half way.

"Come on, a little more!"

"Hannah—"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

She glared at him intently. He sighed, and finished filling the glass. Bruce could tell that she was slightly unstable, which was slightly odd. Usually, she seemed so cool and collected, and although she was feisty, she was never rash. She never cursed excessively either. Maybe she was feeling sick because of her walk in the rain . . . He wasn't sure. He wasn't a doctor that could just analyze people and their emotions with expertise, but from what he did know, he could tell she was not herself. All the little quirks of hers he had memorized over the years were gone. She wasn't tapping her fingers the way she did to before, and she didn't dash for the bookshelf when she first arrived. She didn't seem embarrassed about the way she looked or the fact his shirt was falling off her body. Bruce bit his lip. The way the media portrayed him was incorrect. All the girls he had "things" with were all fabricated or done just to throw people off his trail. He just simply didn't care. Still, the differences in her person right now were more interesting than the way she'd been before. She seemed like a mad person with her hair frizzing up at the roots, and her shoulder sticking out of her shirt.

He handed her the glass, which she basically snatched out of his hands. She lifted it to her lips, and gulped half of the glass down. She choked, then wiped her hand on her mouth.

"Wow that is strong."

"It's whisky."

"I know, smartass."

She finished the rest of her glass.

"You good?"

"Pour me some more."

Bruce obliged, and handed her a new glass. Hannah chugged that down, and jumped to her feet. She sighed, and finished the rest of the liquid. He could already tell she was getting tipsy.

"Hannah, sit down . . ."

"No . . ."

She giggled, and looked into her glass.

"I'm such a lightweight."

"I'll say."

She sighed dramatically.

"I guess Imma gonna stay here. Parents hate me, Lex hates me, and you—You hate me don't you?"

Her words were starting to slur, and Bruce could see that she was swaying back and forth. She grabbed the whisky bottle from Bruce, and tried to pour herself another glass. Her hands shook, just like before. She sighed.

"I don't think you should have anymore—"

"Why not? Lex says the apocalypse is coming."

"Excuse me?"

"It's not a time," Hannah said mockingly "It's a place."

She swayed back and forth again. Bruce walked towards her and snatched her wrists.

"What did Lex say, Hannah?"

"What?"

"Hannah, pay attention to me! This is serious!"

Hannah threw her head back and giggled. Her giggling stopped though as she gazed up at Bruce.

"Di—did anyone tell you—you actually look—look like Jason?"

"Please—"

"You have his eyes—and—and hair. Well, kind of. You're—uh—sorta going gray, my friend."

She reached up and brushed his hair back.

"Jason smiled though. I don't think I've ever seen you smile when you're not drunk."

"The irony."

She laughed, and spun around, lifting the empty glass over her head. The shirt had slipped off her shoulder, so she yanked it back into place again.

"I am feeling fucking dizzy."

"Sit down then. Hannah, could you tell me about what Lex said?"

"W—what? Lex? What about him?"

"Apocalypse—never mind, I'll ask you later."

She smiled cheekily.

"Jason, Bruce, Jason, Bruce."

"Give me the glass."

"C'mon—you—you're no fun. Don't be a party pooper!"

She shrieked giddily. Hannah looked as if she was going to bounce off the walls.

"It is so hot . . . Oh shit, It's hot! B—B—but what about you? What about you?"

"You're hot because you've had too much whisky."

"Too much whisky? That's not even a thing!"

A shaky hand lifted the glass into the air.

"Raise a glass to freedom!" she sang "Something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you, raise a glass for the four of us—"

She paused.

"Or two of us. Th—three counting Alfred!"

"Dammit, Hannah—"

"I feel so much better! I—Imma not lonely anymore!"

She threw herself down onto the couch, and patted on it.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed, gesturing for Bruce to sit down next to her "Sit down!"

"No."

"Why not? It—it's not fair! You are s—s—so mean!"

Bruce groaned, and sat down next to her. He tried to find a comfortable position on the couch, and when he did, it was so his eyes were on the door. Alfred should've been here by now. He glanced at Hannah, who was now staring down into the bottom of the glass. Her lip trembled a little bit, but other than that, she sat completely still.

"Hannah?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

She looked up, her eyes watery. The glare in her eyes was angry, and made Bruce believe that the woman could spit fireballs if she desired to do so.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Her eyes caught a hold of the whisky bottle, which she reached for. Once her fingers curled around it, she pulled it close to her body. She put the bottle to her lips, and took an enormous sip.

"No!" Bruce yelled, grabbing the bottle from her.

"Yes."

"No more alcohol, okay? You're going to have hell of a hangover tomorrow."

"Mmmm no!"

She slouched, the shirt slipping off her shoulders once again.

"I'm glad you're back," she said quietly.

"What?"

"I—Imma glad y—you are back, okay? I fucking missed you."

"Oh."

She twisted around to stare up at him. A small smile stretched across her face, and she let out a small giggle.

"Imma not alone now, r—right?"

"I guess not."

The look of scorn vanished from her eyes.

"Thank you."

"Uh, sure. Sure."

She reached up and brushed the hair off of his forehead. Her smile turned into a frown as she adjusted it, trying to smooth out the mess. If she hadn't been completely drunk she might have accomplished her purpose, but her hands were shaking and her vision was slightly blurry.

The blurry vision was a problem. Everything around her was swimming, floating around in a world where gravity was non-existent, just a lonely concept out there from someone's imagination. She couldn't see the dark brown bookshelves covered with gorgeously bound volumes, nor could she clearly see the head who's hair she was trying to fix.

It was black though, the hair. The face was blurry, but she could see the hair.

It must be Jason.

He'd come back.

She took in a deep breath, and pressed her lips against his. Her frown reversed in to a smile.

It felt like Jason, so she quickly placed her hands on his cheeks. She shifted her body, so that she could be closer, and feel warmer. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Mmm," she mumbled under her breath.

She leaned in closer, and the next thing she knew, his hands were wrapping around her waist.

She broke away and giggled. Her vision still was clogged up. She leaned down, and placed another kiss on his lips.

"I—I—Jason?" she asked, her eyes widening a little bit "I'm so glad—you're here!"

"You're drunk."

"Am not!" she complained, smacking his chest "I am not fucking drunk!"

"You can't even talk without slurring, dammit! You think I'm your fucking dead boyfriend. You're insane!"

"Don't lie to me!" she screamed "You're a fucking liar!"

"Goddamn—"

She grabbed his face, and pulled it to her's. Her lips quivered as she kissed him, begging him to kiss her back. Drunkenness is a delusion, but a beautiful one. The pictures in her head were becoming real in the fog. Anything could go. She sighed happily when she felt the lips under her's slowly start to kiss her back.

They sat there a few minutes, kissing each other slowly.

Hannah brought Jason out of his hiding; she was on the top of the world.

"I love you, Jason," she whispered, lacing her fingers though his hair.

Bruce flinched.

"This has to stop! Now!"

He pushed Hannah off of him. She fell onto the floor with a thud. For split second, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, which made Bruce's heart skip in concern. The bottle of whisky that had been pinned between them shattered on the ground. He'd dealt with drunk women before, evens one who'd thrown themselves at him or thought he was somebody else, but Hannah was one of his closest friend's daughters.

"My god Hannah! Are you okay?"

He knelt down on the ground next to her, and pushed her back up towards the couch. Tears started to fall down her face as she her eyes refocused. She turned her head a little to the side.

"Oh no!" she whimpered miserably "I broke the bottle."

Her tears turned into sobs, and her body started to shake.

"Master Bruce, what happened?" Alfred exclaimed, charging into the room.

Seeing the broken glass on the floor made the older man's eyes grow larger with shock.

"What the hell is going on?" Alfred pressed.

Bruce looked up, and smiled guiltily.

"She's drunk."

"You got her drunk? Master Bruce!"

"I'm sorry, Alfred! I really . . . didn't expect this to happen. At all."

Hannah's sobs quieted down a little bit, and she gasped for breath.

"J—J—Jason?"

Bruce stood up, and walked towards Alfred.

"She's convinced Jason is here, Alfred! Goddammit, what the hell should I do? "

"That doesn't surprise me, considering the fact you got her drunk!"

"I didn't know she was such a lightweight!"

"How much did you give her?"

"Two or three glasses maybe?"

"Of whisky? Master Bruce, that might not be a lot to you, but to the average person—oh dear, I need to clean this up. Take her upstairs will you?"

Bruce nodded.

"Come, Miss. Hochberg. Master Wayne will take you upstairs."

Hannah grunted, and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She twisted around, pulling the bottom of the shirt up to around her belly button. Alfred sighed.

"Does she ever eat?" Alfred asked Bruce, adjusting his bowtie.

"Maybe she's stressed with Lex's case."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, his eyes piercing straight through Bruce.

"Ah, she's his lawyer. You must be thrilled."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"Never mind that now. Take her upstairs to the first guest room, alright?"

"Alfred—"

"Alright?"

Bruce frowned.

"Okay."

He gently placed his arms under Hannah, and lifted her up. She fidgeted.

"Hold still."

"Mmmphhh, Jason? Jason?"

"It's Bruce."

Alfred snorted, and walked over to a small closet in the corner of the room, pulling out a broom and a dust pan. He knelt to the ground to start sweeping up the glass.

"Let go of me!"

"Hannah, you need to sleep. You'll feel better."

"You can be a bitch sometimes, Jas—"

"Bruce."

Hannah squirmed around as Bruce walked out of the library.

"Let go of me, you fucking bastard!"

"No."

She growled, and dug her nails into his neck. Bruce's arms tightened around her. He wasn't going to give into a completely wasted person, especially when he'd faced so many people that had beaten his body to a pulp on multiple occasions.

The next thing he knew, she was crying again. As the tears trickled down her face, she continued trying to get out of his grasp. He finally made it upstairs though, and after situating her on the king sized bed, he pulled the covers up to her chin.

Alfred showed up at the door, holding a glass of water. He set it down on the night stand.

Hannah breath already started evening out, and a few seconds later, she started to snore.

"Mr. Allen is waiting on the line for you."

Bruce rubbed his forehead, and sighed.

"I should get that."

"She'll be fine. I'll watch over her."

"Thank you."

After Bruce left the bedroom, Alfred walked over to the light switch, then flipped it downwards.

Hannah was going to have a fun time sleeping this one off.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey everyone!**

 **So, yeah. Hannah really doesn't hold her whisky . . . At all. Thus chapter was hard for me to write. I mean, a lot of it was awkward. I just really wanted to show how this whole debacle if effecting her mentally. She's starting to go off the rocker. Lex and her past with Jason is really making her crack under the pressure. She's lonely.**

 **The lesson? Love sucks sometimes.**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Thank you once again for your lovely review! I tried to make Bruce's story realistic, as well as his character in general. He's an interesting guy.**

 **persin - Can do. This chapter is dedicated to you! :)**

 **Please follow/favorite/comment. Gosh, I love those three things so so much!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear Jason,_

 _I screwed up. Majorly._

 _My parents were so furious, and I couldn't bear it so I just started to drive. I drove out into the countryside. Of course, my car crashed, and I ended up walking towards the nearest house. Bruce's house._

 _Remember when you told me how much you loved that house? Well, I can see why you did. It truly is beautiful, an incredible reminder of the Wayne legacy. When I got there though, I was wet, and cold, and crazy. I got drunk, so now I have a splitting headache and everything I hear is so loud!_

 _Everything is so bright. Last night everything was blurry._

 _So here I am! Sitting in one of your old houses, hungover with an impending trail coming up soon!_

 _God, life has been throwing a lot lately, huh? With Barry, the batarang, Lex, and Bruce . . . I don't know how I could handle more!_

 _I miss you, Jason. I also feel like I should apologize for getting wasted. That's not the right way to handle oneself, no matter how lonely you are or how fucked up life gets._

 _Once again, I'm so sorry._

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

She woke up with a splitting headache.

"Where am I?" she asked herself, as she peered around the room with partially opened eyes.

She didn't recognize where she was. The room was nice though with its tall ceilings, open windows, and clean white sheets. Hannah ran her hands gently over the blankets, smoothing them down.

It took her a few minutes to make her way down the stairs, which seemed incredibly steep. She shuffled through the first floor, and made her way to the kitchen.

"Miss Hochberg! Please sit down!"

She caught sight of Alfred, who was busily frying something on the stove. He smiled brightly, and gestured for her to sit down on one of the barstools at the island in the center of the kitchen.

"Good morning, Alfred," she muttered rubbing her forehead slowly.

"You must have quite the . . . hangover."

"Is that what this is?"

Alfred snorted.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

She frowned, and continued to rub her forehead. Alfred reached up to a cabinet, then grabbed a white bottle.

"Aspirin?"

"God yes!"

He smiled as Hannah stole the bottle from his grasp, popped the lid open and spilled three of the pills onto her hand. She swallowed them without water.

"Those should start kicking in soon," Alfred said cordially, scooping a fried egg onto a plate "Are you hungry?"

"Um, can I have some toast maybe?"

"Wise choice."

Hannah nodded slowly. Alfred set a kettle on the stove next to the frying pan.

"How does some tea with honey sound?"

"Awesome . . . Alfred—uh—how did I get drunk?"

"What?"

"Simple question . . . How'd I get drunk?"

The older man sighed, snatching the frying pan and placing it into the sink.

"You came her last night all wet. I believe your car—"

"Crashed? I think I know that."

"Really? You didn't seem very aware then."

Hannah stretched, raising her arms above her head. She closed her eyes a little bit.

"I don't know, did I? When did alcohol come into play?"

"I believe Master Bruce gave you some whisky—"

"Whisky? I don't even like the stuff."

Hannah's nose crinkled up as she thought about it.

"You must have been really upset, which I wanted to actually talk about."

"Talk? You're making me nervous, Alfred!"

"I apologize."

He slid the mug across the island to Hannah, who wrapped her fingers around it slowly.

"Drink up. You're looking rather thin."

"Why Alfred, I'm flattered!"

"You know what I mean. . . . You look sick, and well . . . small."

"I didn't notice."

"I know I'm the last person you'd ever want to—ah—talk to, but the circumstances you came here in were less than admirable."

"I told you. I crashed my car."

Alfred grabbed a rag, and ran it over the island counter.

"You were riding around alone in the middle of a thunder storm, and showed up at our doorstep crying like a baby."

"I'm a big girl, okay? I can do what I want."

"You were also a very purposeful girl. You never were idle or crazy; you knew what you wanted and worked for it. I remember how you would spend days at a time with Jason, and you would spend all this time talking about your plans and ambitions. Now that you're on the trail of it—Yes, Master Bruce told me all about your trial and Mr. Luthor—you're going wild."

"Crashing my car isn't wild."

"Getting wasted in the library of this house, crying and thrashing like a small child when Master Bruce tried to help you out."

"I was having a bad day. Mom and Dad found out about the trial and they weren't happy—Ugh, this headache sucks!"

"The Aspirin should be helping."

"I'll probably just have to wait this hangover out and—"

"You need to take care of yourself, Miss. Hochberg, and you're not doing it on your own. You look pale and you've dropped a lot of weight. There are dark circle under your eyes. Along with the erratic behavior, I'd say you must slow down."

"It's called being an adult, Alfred."

"It's also called being responsible."

"You're not my Mother."

"You've made that clear. Look, I'm never going to tell you what not to do. You're right when you say it's your own life to live. I actually agree with the fact that Mr. Luthor deserves a trial."

"Don't let Bruce hear you say that. You're kinda betraying him because he's taking this so personally for whatever reason."

"However, being responsible and listening to advice is not giving up your freedom. It's being human."

"I'd rather be Kryptonian."

Alfred snorted. Hannah's stubbornness was admirable, particularly to Bruce. Something about her staring at someone straight in the eye and saying no was entrancing and inspiring. She was daring, unique and strong.

"Well, I don't know about that."

"Look, the pep talk was sweet. It really was. Hell, I can't stay mad at you and you know it."

Alfred smirked.

"But I got to go . . . Somewhere."

"You have a flat?"

"N—no. I don't but I'll work on that—uh—today."

"You can stay here, and work on your case if you'd like."

"Yeah, yeah."

Hannah groaned, and laid her head against the island.

"Maybe staying a few extra hours to recover might be a good idea."

"Yeah—uh—you might be right, Alfred. Where's Bruce?"

"He had business in Central City."

"Central City? Wow that seems fun."

"Business isn't very entertaining to him."

"Huh. I actually had some stuff I needed to take care of down in Central City too."

"Ah."

"But I might delay it because—oww!"

"Would you like more tea?"

"Thanks, but I'm okay. Is it okay if I go lie down?"

"Of course. Please feel free to get me if you need anything. Anything at all!"

Hannah smiled gratefully, and left the kitchen. She moaned. Feeling bloated and disgusting, she trampled back up the stairs, and into the guest bedroom.

She _hated_ the fact she had to stay here.

Although she loved Alfred, the bitterness and the anger that flew up inside of her got in the way of being able to relax. This house was haunted to her; it brought out too many ghosts from the pasts.

She slammed the door of the guest bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed. Her head throbbed, a ghastly sensation.

Brinngggggg!

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed.

Reaching her hand out, she felt for the phone, which she quickly concluded was in her bag. It took her a few minutes to find it, for Alfred had tucked it away neatly inside the dresser. She pulled it out, and put it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hannah Hochberg," a young but strong voice asked.

"Who is this?"

"So, you've forgotten about me already. Ah, and to think I thought you were different!"

"Damian?"

"The one and only."

"H—how did you get my number?"

"And why are you hungover?"

Hannah gaped.

"How did you know that I'm hung over?"

"You just admitted to it."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"Fine. At Grandfather's place there were several guards and he punished them every time they were hungover."

"G—guards? Was your Grandfather rich?"

"Richer than you."

"Hah. Okay. So why'd you call? Wait—did you run away again?"

"Of course not! It's getting boring, running away. I just wanted to see how your case was going."

"Well, duh! You obviously watch the news!"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Well, no. What do you want to know?"

Damian sighed dramatically.

"Alexander Luthor created Doomsday out of the corpse of General Zod. Doomsday, in turn, killed Superman. If you think about it, Alexander Luthor turned Superman and Batman against each other. That was his agenda. To pit the two men against each other, it must have been an inside job. He knows who they are, Hannah Hochberg. Lex Luthor, your client, knows who Batman _is._ "

"Believe it or not, I actually thought about that. Now, why do you want to know about Batman?"

"Well—uh—I don't know . . . It—I—I was just interested."

"Listen to you! Stuttering and acting all nervous! This is a first!"

"Haha! Very funny!"

"Be honest though. Why do you want to know?"

Silence.

"Damian?"

"What?"

"Answer the question."

"Dammit," Damian muttered under his breath.

"You okay?"

"No."

"Can you answer the question?"

"I—I—I want to fight!"

"Fight? What the hell?"

"Batman isn't the only one who wants to—help people."

"You want him to train you in—well—the Art of War?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think he'd train you?"

"I have . . . My ways."

"What does that mean?"

"I have to go. If you find anything out from Alexander, you'll let me know, right?"

"Um, I'll think about it."

"It's not your business to think about!"

"Damian . . . I just—I don't think I will ever find out who he is. I tried, but nothing came up."

"Maybe I could help! I'm quite smart and—"

"I know you're smart. You're probably the smartest person I've ever met in my entire life, but it's not that simple, okay?"

"I know I could help!"

"How?"

Silence.

"Damian?" Hannah aske, pressing the phone closer to her face.

"Nothing. I should hang up. I'm only allowed to be on the phone for so much time."

"Yeah . . . Hey, would it be okay if we hung out sometime?"

"What do you want?"

"To be your friend. Only if that's okay with you, of course."

"Maybe. I'll think about it. And if you change your mind, you know where to contact me."

With that, he hung up. Hannah frowned, and rolled over onto her stomach on the bed. The call had been so out of the random. It certainly was something she did not expect in the slightest, but something that she enjoyed. Every time she talked to him, her brain felt stimulated.

His questions worried her though. The kid obviously knew about Batman, which made Hannah shiver a bit. It was a touchy subject . . . Particularly because she'd been so close to solving the mystery of who he was.

Why would he wanted to be trained by him though?

She knew the kid was into all sorts of martial arts, but the things Batman did were beyond some simple Karate moves.

Why Batman though?

Damian mentioned a Grandfather though. Apparently he didn't take care of him, but he was rich and had guards. Sure, a lot of wealthy business men had security guards, but something in the way Damian said it suggested otherwise. He also said he had "his ways." Maybe he was just talking, but a feeling in Hannah's gut proclaimed otherwise.

 _Don't think too much of it._

She pulled the covers up around her body. The aspirin was starting to kick in for the headache was starting to fade.

"Sleep, finally," she muttered as she closed her eyes.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey guys! Thanks for reading chapter eleven! Gosh, have I really just passed the ten chapter mark?**

 **I know this chapter may just seem like a bit of a filler, but it's actually nodding to the sequel that's in the works. :)**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Drunk Hannah is a little amusing. Mostly, I find it kind of sad . . . She's one step closer to . . . the ledge. *gasps***

 **Please follow/favorite/ review! Did I mention how much I love those things?**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	12. Chapter 12

_Dear Jason,_

 _Damian has me worried. He called me, and wanted to ask if I knew who Batman was. The kid is so smart . . . He told me that Lex had pitted Batman and Superman against each other, and that in order for him to do that, he must know their identities. Superman's identity will go down in history unsolved. So many people have already tried their hand at it._

 _He thinks I know though because I'm Lex's lawyer. I wish I did know, of course, but it isn't that simple. I had to tell Damian I didn't know, and he actually seemed disappointed! He was stuttering and I could hear the drop in his voice._

 _Maybe it's an opportunity. Obviously I can't tell him who Batman is, even if I did find out . . . Could I? If you hadn't guessed it by now, I'm kind of lonely, and Damian is special._

 _What am I saying?_

 _Pulling Damian into all of this is stupid and completely immature. I've already done so many stupid things in the last forty-eight hours; I can't afford to do anything else that's dumb._

 _So, I've decided to go to Central City today. I'm feeling bored, and I have all this weird energy bottled up inside of me. Hopefully, Barry will let me see the actual test results for the fingerprints. Who knows? Maybe they'll be useful at some point, and I have to have records of everything I do. That's what is ethical._

 _I don't think I can go back home, Jason. To put it lightly, Mom and Dad are pissed, and it's about time I moved out of the house. What else is there for me anyway? Just a bunch of chains. It shouldn't be too hard to find an apartment, or, as Alfred likes to say, a flat. Hah! I'm finally growing up!_

 _I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

She took a long, seven hour nap in the bedroom, and once she woke up, her headache had vanished. A happy smile crossed her face as she rubbed away the droll that was dried up on the side of her mouth. There were no dreams, aches or anything else to ruin the sensational feeling coursing through her veins. She sighed contentedly, flopping back onto the bed.

 _This feeling can't last._

Her eyes shot open, and she sat up again.

 _Right . . . This isn't my house._

She glanced over to the dresser where her clothes from the night before were clean and freshly pressed.

"Good old Alfred."

Hannah got dressed quickly, pulled her phone off its charger, and threw that into her purse. She reached out to make the bed, then hesitated. She desperately wanted to get on the road to Central City. It never occurred to her that Barry had to possess the actual records of the testing when she first went there, but now it seemed logical to get them for posterity.

"Alfred?" she called, dashing down the stairs.

"Miss. Hochberg?"

"Hey!"

"Ah, you feel better now?"

"Yes, thanks to you! Is there any way I could borrow a car?"

Alfred smiled weakly.

"Of course. Master Bruce said you'd want to have that done."

"He did?"

The older man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of keys.

"These are for the red Jaguar. Oh, and Master Bruce had your car towed to a shop. It seems as if you've totaled it."

Hannah frowned.

"Why does that surprise me? Anyway, thank you for everything, Alfred."

She stood up on her tip-toes, and planted a kiss onto his cheek. She then smiled sweetly, her brown eyes glittering. Alfred smiled back, and nodded affectionately. Hannah readjusted her bag on her hip, then sighed.

"So, I'm gonna hot the road now! Thanks for the car! Bye!"

With that, Hannah disappeared. Alfred rubbed the back of his neck slowly. Damn, her bad, dramatic mood had been flicked off. Hannah's newfound happiness startled him, as it would startle most every person out there.

As for Hannah, she wanted the trip to Central City to be a fast one. In and out. She also eagerly wanted to start her home. It all seemed so crazy, so fat, but life is life and you have to take all the punches it throws at you.

A few hours later, she rolled into Central City again. She pulled up to the same parking garage she went to the first time she met Barry. By this time, it was dark outside. Hopefully, Barry would still be curled up in his lab, busily buzzing over whatever case he'd be working on. All she'd have to do is hop up there and then head back to Gotham.

The same person was sitting at the front desk. Hannah didn't think that she was recognized, but she was permitted to go up anyway. After a quick trek up the stairs, she slowed down when she reached the top. The hallway of doors was dark, and completely void of people, which made Hannah shiver. She straightened her shoulders, however, and took a slow step forward.

She didn't make a sound as she slowly walked across the worn out, wooden floor. Her eyes gazed across the scuffed floor, examining where people had stepped many times. Something about that sentiment was beautiful, knowing that little stories were marked on the floor. Every desperate run across the floor. People wanting to give their stories to Barry, trusting him with their sacred issues that scared the shit out of them.

When she reached the door, she held up her fist to knock. Taking a quick, shallow breath, she stopped.

There was noise on the other side.

"I swear to god, she's onto something," a voice muttered that Hannah quickly identified as Barry Allen's.

"That doesn't mean that we can stop, Allen. This is bigger than us, this is bigger than her."

 _Bruce?_

He sounded exhausted yet strict like a father talking to his son.

"B—But she had a batarang with fingerprints and—"

"Who's were on it?"

"A guy named Jason Todd. You know him?"

"He was Robin at one point. He's dead now."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Allen. What did you tell her though?"

"I told her there was nothing on them."

Barry's voice sounded reluctant, almost as if this conversation was physically hurting him. His breath seemed shallow, but then again, Hannah was no expert on the topic.

"She believed you?"

"Yeah, Bruce, but like I mentioned earlier, l—lying isn't my thing—"

"We don't have a choice. She can't know who I am because I don't want the Bat to get dragged into Lex's trial."

"You are the Bat. If one gets dragged, the other goes down with it and you know it, Bruce."

"That won't happen."

"What if Jason left something else around the house, and you're not as lucky? Maybe it'll have Alfred's fingerprints or yours! Did I mention that your finger prints were also in the database?"

"Dammit."

"I've already lied once, a—and that was very unethical, especially for a scientist. I—I can't lie again."

"You're also the Flash, Barry. You run faster than the speed of light!"

"That doesn't mean I'm not human, Bruce!"

Bruce groaned, and walked across the room.

"Listen to me, Barry. Being the way you are will require you to lie, no matter what! Who you are has to remain a secret, just like who I am must too!"

Silence.

"You u—underestimate Hannah. She's smart—"

"I have known her longer than you have."

"I know. I'm just reminding you. Anyway, we have more important things to talk about."

"Like?"

Hannah's heart stopped in her chest.

She's been right.

Bruce was Batman.

She trembled, unsure of whether she needed to barge in and say something or just silently walk away. Confrontation wouldn't solve anything, but it'd make her feel better. Bruce lied to her for years! On top of Jason's lies, this new revelation made her feel like she was being punched in the chest. She couldn't resist the idea of facing him, so she recklessly did it.

"Yeah, Barry. Like what?" she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Both Barry and Bruce turned around, their eyes wide with shock. The younger man looked like a cornered child that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Bruce, on the other hand, looked strong and collected on the outside. Hannah couldn't imagine him freaking our hysterically or screaming especially loud at her . . . That wasn't in his nature. Still, she'd bene hoping for a little more of a reaction then a proud, cold face.

"Like what, Barry?" she repeated, taking a few steps closer to the pair.

She crossed her arms. Barry's mouse opened and then closed.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, guys. Please continue. I won't be bothering you."

"Hannah," Bruce started "Just don't start."

"Don't start? How could I not start? You lied to me. You did too, Barry Allen."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry doesn't cut it, Bruce Wayne. You're Batman, the crazy vigilante who brands people and takes justice into his own hands."

"It's not like that!"

"Oh, but I think it is! Alfred knows. Barry knows. Jason knew."

"Jason worked with me."

"And when he died, you could have told me the truth!"

"I was protecting you!"

"No, you were selfish and you still are to this day! Six years and I have had no answers! None! But you did! You saw I was hurting and yet you still made a stupid, heartless decision to lie like a little bitch!"

"I did not want you to get hurt!"

"You said that!"

"I owed it to Jason! You were his world and if you died, I could never forgive myself!"

"That's not your prerogative!"

"Hannah—"

"Did he tell you to lie?"

"That's not—"

"Answer the question!"

"I—"

"Dammit Bruce!"

"He didn't, okay?"

"He didn't? What did he say?"

The guilt Hannah didn't see on his face at first slowly started appearing. His eyes grew dull, and his shoulders sagged a little bit. He seemed tired.

"Bruce?"

"He wanted me to tell you."

Everything started spinning around Hannah. She gasped, an enormous amount of pain growing in her chest. A scream escaped her lips, as her legs began to wobble under her.

Bruce was at her side quickly, and led her over to the table, where she sat. Her feet dangled off the side. She watched her hands shake back in forth violently.

"You fucking liar."

"I know."

"I know? That's all you have to say for yourself, you piece of shit?"

He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. It needed to be brushed desperately at this point.

"I know you'll never understand my intentions, Hannah. You don't know what my life—what Jason's life—is or was like. He took a risk loving you and that meant I had to be more careful. He had to be more careful."

"Six years, Bruce. You had no right to lie for six years."

"You're right I didn't have a right, but that's not how life works. Look, I know you must be furious me. Hell, you're absolutely furious with me. After what happened last night and all of this shit—"

"What happened last night?"

Bruce frowned, and shook his head a little.

"I knew something was wrong last night. What the hell did you do?"

"We kissed."

Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes for a brief second. She knew something had felt off when she first woke up at their house. At the time, the hangover had been blocking any serious train of though. Still, something in the bottom of her told her something was different.

"What?"

"You were drunk. I'm sorry!"

"What about Jason?" Hannah yelled, hitting him in the chest.

Bruce took another step forward and grabbed her arms. His grip was strong and tight.

"Shhh, shhh. Listen to me—Hannah—Hannah!"

"What about Jason?" she repeated, getting a little louder.

Bruce's calm demeanor contorted into an angry scowl.

"He's dead, dammit! Jason is dead!"

How could—"

"Move on, Hannah! He's not here and he hasn't been for six years! Move on!"

"Move on? What, with you?"

Bruce growled angrily, and squeezed her arms tighter.

"I care about you, Hannah. You are one of the single most important things in the world to me and I will not let you hurt yourself."

"Hurt myself? You're hurting me!"

"This obsession you have with a dead man is hurting you! It's driving you insane a little more each day and it has to stop!"

"How do you know?"

"The same thing happened to me."

Bruce brushed away a few stray tears that trickled down Hannah's cheeks. A small, sympathetic smile crossed his lips.

"I know you loved him, but take a chance. Take a leap of faith."

"With you?"

Bruce sighed, and glanced down briefly.

"I love him, Bruce. I always will, and I will never love you. I hate you!"

"I didn't ask you to," Bruce said hesitantly "I'm asking you to run, to go a make a change. God knows you need it."

Hannah laughed.

"Yeah, go ahead. Tell me I'm nuts and that I need help. That's absolutely going to make me move on."

"Hannah—"

"I feel sorry for you, Bruce. You're so blinded and stupid, that you don't know what it means to really love someone. When I told Jason I would love him forever, I meant it. I meant every word, so I will not break that promise! Why are we even talking about this? You're the little bitch that lied and lied and lied."

"Um, a voice said "Should I go?"

Bruce and Hannah looked in the direction of the voice. There stood Barry, shifting from one foot to another.

"I don't want to get involved in you little . . . spat, okay? Can I leave, Bruce?"

"The little shit," Hannah mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that!"

Hannah rolled her eyes.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

He stuck his hand sin his pockets, and trudged out, muttering something about his lab and his space under his breath.

"I forgot he was here," Bruce said blankly.

Hannah slid off the table, and shook Bruce's grip off her.

"I want you to know something, Bruce. I hate cowards," Hannah said softly.

Bruce didn't say a word.

"You're a coward," she repeated, raising her voice a little.

Nothing.

Hannah wanted to push his buttons. She wanted him to yell and get mad, possibly breaking something in the process. That was the Bruce she knew. The sulky playboy that got pissed at the drop of a needle. However, she couldn't get it out of him. She sighed impatiently.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she demanded. Putting her hands on her hips.

Bruce shrugged.

"What do you want me to say? I already apologized."

"Apologies don't cut it."

"You've made that clear."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"The Batman stuff, you idiot."

"A little over twenty-years."

"Oh."

Twenty years was a long time to be a character. Hannah couldn't imagine how it must have been eating away at him all the time. When you're playing a role for something, it's easy to become it. Playing a role for twenty years must brand it into your soul, haunting you for the rest of your life. Bruce must've seen a lot in those twenty years. Jason must've seen a lot also.

Was Jason lonely when he died?

"How'd he die?"

"He was chasing after the Joker. Went out by himself. We had—uh—gotten into a fight the night before. He wanted to kill the Joker but I wouldn't let him. The Joker captured him, and as far as I knew, beat him up pretty badly. At least that's what some of the radio transmissions I received suggested."

"Then what?"

There was a bomb inside the warehouse he was being held, and—you can assume the rest."

Hannah's heart dropped.

"I was right on his tail. I could've gotten to him."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't."

Hannah wrapped her arms around her body, and shivered. Her heart kept a steady rhythm in her chest. A sense of relief washed over her initially, but the aftertaste was bitter.

"Well," she said slowly "Maybe you should have been faster."

Bruce nodded. She could see his face had fallen. The man wasn't trying to hide his emotions this time. He took a few steps forward, then backed up slowly. Hannah lifted up her chin proudly, trying to keep her own tears from falling. She did not want to cry again in front of this man. He'd ruined so much. He lied to her. He kissed her. He did everything that was considered to be crossing the line. His jaw trembled.

Was he going to cry?

Hannah couldn't imagine the stone-hearted man crying. If he cried, everything would fall apart. The world wouldn't make sense. Jason never cried, and Bruce wasn't supposed to.

He lifted his chin up, just like her.

 _I guess he's not crying today._

"Jason meant a lot to me too."

"Maybe. But he meant more to me."

Silence.

"I'm leaving."

"Fine."

She walked towards the door, went down the hallway, and down the stairs. All the energy she felt when she woke up was drained from her. Her bones ached and the pain in her chest kept on burning.

She waved at the person at the desk, but she was only greeted by a reluctant stare.

There wasn't much for her to do now. She jumped into her car, and drove off. She needed to find a place to stay, but she couldn't worry about that now.

She knew the truth.

Bruce was Batman.

She pulled into the parking lot of an old motel. It looked run down and dirty, but she just needed to put her shit together. After she checked in, she settled into her musty hotel room. The TV didn't work and the sheets looked like they hadn't been cleaned in days.

 _It'll have to do._

She collapsed onto the bed, and curled up into a ball. She shook, freezing cold. Pulling the nasty, crusty blankets up around her, she shuddered over and over again, praying that she'd be able to fall asleep quickly. Her body protested however. She bit her lip. Rolling onto her back, she gazed up, her eyes tracing along the edges where the wall met the ceiling.

She was scared.

She had to be at court in a couple of days, and she didn't know if she was prepared for it. Lex probably was snoozing in his cell, or staring up at the ceiling, strange delusions running through his head. She couldn't work on it though for she left her laptop at her parent's house. Her head pounded impatiently, desiring to move and jump up and down chaotically to warm up.

Yeah, she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

This day really had sucked.

And she doubted tomorrow would be better.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Everyone! Here is chapter 12! I hope you all enjoy it a lot! Here's the confrontation you've all been waiting for. :) Next up, Hannah gets ready for trial!**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Of course Damian knows more than he lets on. ;)**

 **Please follow/favorite/review! Those three things make me so happy!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	13. Chapter 13

_Dear Jason,_

 _I was right. I was absolutely right._

 _Bruce is Batman._

 _You wanted me to know, didn't you? You wanted him to tell me everything about what you did and he decided to keep that information for himself. He's so selfish! He's a selfish narcissist that can't think of anyone but himself! He didn't honor your last wish; he didn't care! He just wanted to make sure him and his stupid identity a secret. What, he thought he was going to spill his little secret?_

 _I don't know how I was going to act if he had told me about who he was. I don't know. That never happened. I can't say what I'd do, but I know what I'm feeling now. This hurts, Jason. It's hurts so much! You can't be angry where you are now, so I have to do it for you. I'm not just angry though. I'm furious! I don't think I can describe all the hatred I am feeling right now._

 _Bruce is a liar, Jason. How did you live with him for all these years? How did you allow him to take care of you? And how did I not see the manipulation? The lies?_

 _He kissing me was manipulation! He knew I was drunk, and he encouraged and egged me on into doing something that wasn't right!_

 _I am so sorry about that, Jason. I was drunk, but it was inexcusable. I acted wrong. I can't believe Bruce didn't stop that though. It was wrong of him. He knows how I feel! I'll always love you, okay? I always will. There is nothing that will ever change that. Please forgive me. You're in a better place now, so maybe you can manage to do that. I feel like I've betrayed a vow, something precious I made with you._

 _I know we never got married. We wanted that though. We wanted the white picket fence and the kids, It probably couldn't have happened, given your role as Robin, but I would have tried to make what was in our lives worked. Hell, I would have trained to become an ass-kicking superhero to be with you. Hah, I can see you laughing at that right now._

 _We could have made it work. We could have, and now I feel like I've ruined something. You still love me, right? Even though we kissed and I'm all in a mess over this situation. You promised that we would be forever. You'll keep that vow, right?_

 _Are you mad that I was stupid enough to fall for Bruce's lies? All I can say is sorry._

 _I'm sorry._

 _I'm sorry._

 _I love you. I'll always love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

Brinngggggg!

Hannah sat up, and reached out for her cell phone.

It was Mom.

"Hello?"

"Oh my god! Hannah, honey! Where are you?"

"Mom?" Hannah muttered "Wh—what?"

"Hannah, where are you?"

"I'm at a motel. Where are you?"

"Your Father and I have been looking for you! We just got a call from Bruce—"

"Of course you did."

"We're coming to get you so we can take you home. We heard about your car accident, and we need to make sure you're okay!"

"Oh. I have to get ready for trial Mom. I can't talk right now."

"Come to the house and work on it!"

"You literally just told me that you didn't approve of me working on the case."

"Honey, I don't want to fight with you. Our family is too important."

"Right."

Hannah wasn't sure what to think. What her Mother and Father had done to her was very devastating to her, and part of her declared that she should just break away. The other side of her, however, was telling her to run back to her parented. They raised her . . . Took care of her . . . They sent her to the best schools, and even though they disapproved of her dreams of attaching 'esquire' to her name, they let her go for them.

 _What Dad said though . . . What he said!_

"Hannah?"

"Yes?"

"Come home!"

"I—I don't know . . ."

She heard her Mother sigh desperately over the phone. Hannah could tell she was upset and genuine.

"Where's Dad?"

"He's here with me."

"Okay."

"Would you like to talk to him?"

"No—No, I'm good. I'm good."

"Where is the motel?"

"I'm busy."

"I'm sorry, Hannah. What else can I say?"

"Nothing. I forgive you. Just right now, I need to do some serious work. Hell, being a defense lawyer isn't easy."

"Nothing is."

"I know . . . Thank you for calling, Mom. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Alright, honey. I love you."

"I know."

Hannah clicked the hang-up button, and sighed. She didn't want to deal with this now. She got up, pulled her clothes on, and pulled all of her things together. Lex would be waiting at the prison, and tomorrow, the trial would be starting. Hannah checked out of the motel and proceeded to her car.

The drive to the prison was a long one. She didn't play any music or call anyone. It's funny, but she didn't think . . . Her mind was numb. Not a thought flew through her head. She didn't think of Bruce being Batman. She didn't think of Jason, or the cold image of his bloody corpse.

She adjusted the air conditioning, and blew out slowly. Preventing herself from thinking was hard. Finally giving in, her mind crowded with everything she'd be trying to avoid.

Jason.

Bruce.

Damian.

Her Father.

Lex.

Her phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"It's Bruce."

"And I didn't think you'd have the audacity to speak to me after what happened."

"I—"

"Why'd you call my parents?"

"To make sure you were all right."

"You didn't seem to care yesterday."

"Good luck, Hannah."

"Excuse me?"

"I said good luck."

"Didn't you once say you didn't believe in luck?"

"Things have changed."

"I think we can agree on that. Bruce, I don't know why you're calling me. I have to go, okay? Please don't call me again because I'm working."

Hannah hung up.

 _The next day . . ._

The judge was named Sandra Matthews, and she was a no-nonsense women who'd been judging cases like these for thirty years. She wasn't very merciful, and was known to admonish the defendants harshly.

"Miss. Hochberg, you may begin with the defense," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes.

Hannah gulped, and straightened her suit jacket, and stood to her feet. Lex's eyes followed her as she strode confidently to the front. Their eyes met briefly. She nodded at Lex encouragingly, who lowered his eyes. She could tell her was terrified, well enough to know what was about to happen. Still, there was a look of insanity in his eyes, an unsettling appearance that made any trace of sanity noticeable in him to be outweighed by all the craziness. She was terrified too. News channels had camera set up in the court room, and shortly before the trial started, she heard that millions upon millions of people were watching.

The prosecuting team had just gone before. They questioned Lex, a forensic scientist, and several witnesses of the explosion. Harping on the effect it had on America, the lawyers proved to be difficult adversaries. She had scribbled down several notes during their speech, and tried to calm down Lex, who acted as insane as he looked. He swayed back and forth, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. He put his forehead on the table at one point, but Hannah hissed that he needed to sit up.

She smiled confidently, and slowly adjusted some papers in her hand.

"Everyone knew who Alexander Luthor was years before these events of terrorism took place. He was born into the public eye, and was raised by his wealthy father. They seemed like the perfect family, but like every family, they had their secrets. Lionel Luthor, Alexander's father, was abusive and struggled with substance abuse."

The audience murmured as Hannah paused for dramatic effect.

"Lionel took his problems out on Alexander, blaming him for not being good enough. He also abused Alexander's Mother. So my client had to grow up in an unstable home, something so horrible. Something that no one should ever able to go through."

"Objection!" one of the prosecuting lawyers yelled.

"Objection overturned," Judge Matthews snapped, glaring at the prosecutor.

"As I was saying," Hannah continued "Alexander had a rough childhood, one that would torment him for years and years."

That was technically true. Lex always had daddy issues, especially because Lionel Luthor had been so awful. Hannah remembered meeting him several times when she was younger, so she had memories of him stumbling around drunkenly or screaming at Lex or his Mother.

Lex always remained bitter towards his father. He also was somewhat obsessed with it, harping on it during the strangest of times. Hannah was merciful towards him because of the memories. Still, she doubted Lex would have committed this act of terrorism because of his childhood.

Defense was a crazy thing though and she had to use whatever she could to sway the jury.

"His childhood was added to some new stress he was under. In 2013, Metropolis was attacked by aliens from Krypton. We received a so-called hero though in the form of Superman. Superman defeated Zod and stopped the alien craft that landed. However, much controversy arrived when he came. People said that him flying around without supervision was dangerous. He could do what he wanted . . . What would happen if he snapped? What would happen if he chose to no longer help us? Alexander worried about that . . . No, he didn't just worry. He fretted? He cared for humanity and didn't want anything else to get in it's way. He desired for progress. His company, Lex Corp, looked for ways to advance the green energy movement. He designed technology that made transportation safer. Would a man who did these things act out and do something so horrendous like this for no reason?"

She paused again to glance at Lex, who was sitting up as still as a statue. The peculiar gleam is his eyes made her stomach flip. The next move she was going to make was a big one, and she hadn't really discussed it with Lex. Her eyes turned to a man in the front row, who nodded at her slowly.

"The thing is, Alexander Luthor did have a reason."

She sauntered over to the judge, her face showing her determination.

"He was clinically insane."

The judge's eyes widened, and she could hear the murmuring of the prosecution team behind her. The audience also started talking to themselves.

"Order, order in my court!" the judge exclaimed, and once everyone calmed down she said "You can continue."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor was clinically insane, which drove him to start acting erratically. I request to call my first witness."

"Permission granted."

As she turned back towards the audience, Hannah caught a glimpse of Lex. His face was riddled with confusion and disappointment. Hannah raised her chin stubbornly, a small smile forced across her lips.

This was what had to be done.

A middle aged women stumbled up to the stage. She was tiny with straight blonde hair, and painted red lips. Her clothing was slightly shabby, and she looked bewildered. When she was sworn in, she spoke the words quietly.

"Miss. Richards," Hannah started "How long had you been working for Mr. Luthor?"

"Ten years."

"What position?"

"His personal assistant."

"And when did you notice Mr. Luthor started acting erratically?"

Mr. Luthor started acting weirdly about a year and a half ago. He'd mumble a lot to himself, something he hated. He always scolded me for mumbling."

"Anything else?"

"He'd pace around in circles, sway from side to side, and sometimes he'd just freeze up."

"Would Mr. Luthor ever have panic attacks?"

"Sometimes."

"What would he do when he was having a panic attack?"

"Mr. Luthor would get fidgety, and would cry. Sometimes he'd yell and cuss and wail."

"What do you mean by wail? Would he wail words?"

"No, he wouldn't. It was just a very sad, lonely sound. The only thing I could compare it to was a whale call."

Hannah ignored some of the giggles she heard coming from behind her.

"Would he make these wailing noises in front of you?"

"Occasionally, but most of the time it was when he thought he was alone."

"Right. You mentioned he'd yell a lot. What sort of thing would he yell?"

The witness's shoulder hunched, and a fat tear trickled out of her left eye.

"He'd yell the strangest things. Things about the Apocalypse coming. Something about how it wasn't a thing, but a place he saw in a dream or something along those things. It was very confusing."

"Did he ever talk in detail of this so called Apocalypse?"

"No. He just said it was coming."

"Did he talk about Apocalypse a lot?"

"No, only when he was having these fits, and that was when it was very extreme."

"Did you ever call paramedics when he was having a fit?"

"No, he told me not to. He wasn't hurting himself, and they wouldn't last for long, so I went ahead and listened to him."

"Thank you for coming, Miss. Richards."

With that, Miss. Richard's got up and went back to her seat.

"Now, we cannot just claim insanity. I take the process of diagnosing insanity very seriously so I called several professional psychiatrist from all over America to see if Alexander Luthor is indeed insane. I would like to call up my second witness, Doctor Edward Thorin."

She gestured towards the audience, and the man she nodded at earlier walked forward.

He was a short and skinny man with crazy, frazzled salt and pepper colored hair. Around his eyes were a pair of thick, black glasses. He wore a tie and a light blue dress shirt and black slacks.

After he got sworn in, Hannah started her questioning.

"Now Doctor Thorin, you examined my client, correct?"

"Yes ma'am. I examined him on three separate occasions."

"And what was your diagnosis?"

"Just as you suggested, clinical insanity."

"Why?"

"As the previous witness stated, he displayed erratic behavior including delusions. Delusions are quite common in someone suffering from insanity. Also, seeing pictures of horrifying events in the future are more common than not."

"What do you think could have caused this insanity?"

"Unfortunately, there isn't one exact reason we can pin-point. He obviously suffered much emotional and physical abuse during his childhood. Stress also could have played a part to it, especially since he seemed to take these events involving Krypton and Superman quite seriously. Another thing is simply that some people's brains are time bombs, just waiting explode and get thrown into insanity. It can build up, just like a blood clot that can cause a stroke or a heart attack."

"How long do you think he's been suffering from clinical insanity?"

"I think it's been at least a year and a half based on the profile I have created on him. We can track this new, strange behavior to fairly recently, and not several years ago. People need to understand that mental illness is a strange thing, and doesn't usually follow the rules of a more physical condition."

"Thank you, Doctor Thorin."

"You are most welcome."

As he sat down, Hannah paced to the other side of the court house and to the jury.

"There are five more Doctors I can call up that have the same diagnosis. They all said that my client is clinically insane!"

She pointed towards Lex, who was cowering like a little child. His lips trembled angrily. Hannah could see that he was furious. Hannah's heart flopped. She didn't want to hurt Lex. She just had to do what she had to do.

"Saying that this man committed acts of terrorism with a malicious will is ridiculous! This man is not someone to be hated. He is someone to sympathize. He is someone who needs medical help and you can give that to him if you say that he isn't guilty."

Silence.

"Committing a crime and being guilty of a crime are two different things," she said clearly, holding her head up high.

The whole court house erupted. Everyone behind her started chattering incoherently, and one person started yelling profanity. Hannah turned to see Lex, who still looked terrified. Multiple security guards surrounded Lex, and one went to Hannah's side. She frowned, and told him she was fine.

"Get that man out of my court!" the judge yelled at the security, who quickly rushed over to the man who was cursing.

The man protested, struggling furiously, but was eventually overpowered.

Hannah frown grew as she looked out over the crowd of people. Everyone was looking at her, some nodding in agreement, but most shaking their head in disbelief. Reporters were scribbling on their note pads, while some held up recording devices.

As her eyes roamed the room, they stopped.

Bruce.

She raised an eyebrow as he nodded at her, acknowledging that he saw her.

Next to him sat Alfred, who was nodding politely. She smiled.

Bruce thought Hannah was brilliant, moving and speaking with grace. The passion she had was evident in her clear, strong voice. Her questions were simple and to the point, yet were filled with so much power. She made the people in the court room shake with fear of her, and she made the jury listen intently.

He thought she was beautiful in her skirt suit and jacket. To him, he reminded him of Diana . . . Someone who felt the pain of the person she defended, someone who was willing to rise up to the occasion. Someone who was willing to let her emotions spill out onto the ground to prove her point. To him, she seemed cunning and wise beyond her years. In her words, there was knowledge, something that mad people believe her.

Hannah was no longer the socialite who went to parties, wore fancy dressed, and hung out with celebrities.

She was no longer the girl that Tabloids gossiped about.

She was no longer the spoiled child who didn't know what the real world was like.

She was Hannah Hochberg, a woman with a purpose.

She was a woman who was going to win.

She spun around gracefully, and approached the jury again, words trickling out of her mouth. A few members of the jury leaned forward, and the judge shook her head in disbelief.

Hannah Hochberg was controversial; people were going to remember this case for years to come. Her name was infamous now. People would debate her quotes and her methods. Law schools were going to talk about her to their students. New lawyers were going to look up to her, and study this case for an eternity.

A bittersweet feeling rushed over Bruce. Lex knew what he'd done, but Hannah was far too stellar to say no to. He glanced over at Alfred, who smiled.

"That's my girl," the older man whispered to himself "That's my girl."

 **A/N:**

 **Hello Everyone! Thanks for reading! Wow, this chapter was a tough one to write. I don't know a whole lot about court proceedings so excuse me if it seems off. All I really know came from Legally Blonde and John Grisham novels. :p**

 **Aurora Nightstar - Yeah, it was a lot of information. ;p**

 **Next chapter, Lex takes the stand, and Hannah chats with everyone's favorite precocious ten year old.**

 **Thank you again for reading!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	14. Chapter 14

_Dear Jason,_

 _The first day of trial went alright._

 _I didn't know how I'd do, especially since I have been feeling so distracted lately, but when I got up there, I felt good. The words and ideas I was trying to get across came out smoothly. The witnesses I brought up on the stand also had very compelling testimonies, and they seemed to move the jury._

 _I wish you could have seen it, Jason. It felt like I was on fire, and I felt like I packed a powerful punch. Jason, I could feel you with me, and I believe that's why I did so well. Describing what I felt is hard . . . I felt warm and surrounded, but not in a menacing way. I felt that feeling in my stomach that I got whenever I saw you wake up from a long nap and you'd blink a few times, a small smile stretched out across your face. I felt peace, something that could only come from you. No Yahweh, not my parents, just you._

 _You'll never guess who showed up to the trial . . ._

 _When I saw Bruce in the crowd, I was shocked. After what happened and after all the lies he told, I didn't think he'd be a part of my life anymore. There he was though, sitting in the crowd with Alfred. I tried to block him out, but it didn't work. I don't want Bruce to be a part of my life, Jason. He's here to stay though because some divinity chose it to be that way. I wish he'd just leave though because every time I think back on what he did, it breaks my heart._

 _Tomorrow I am going to question Lex. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't nervous. He's so fragile right now, so I don't know if he'll crack or not. The last thing I need for him is to start pretending to be okay. I need his honesty. I want him to really discuss everything that has been haunting him. Yes, I need him to do it to sway the jury, but I also need him to be honest with himself and admit he'd crazy._

 _I don't know what's going to happen. Yes, the last time in court went well, but there is more to come. A lot more. I pray that you'll be watching over me because that is what empowered me before. Please make me strong, Jason. You're the reason I can win this trial and I need to win. I need to win. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't win. This win wouldn't just be for Lex, it would be for me._

 _Jason, I love you. I fall in love with you a little more each passing moment, Don't let me down. I need you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hannah_

When Hannah walked into the courtroom, she raised her head up high and allowed all the photographers to take pictures of her as she went to the front. The flashes were blinding, and made a headache develop behind her eyes. As she sat down at the front, she opened her bag and pulled out her yellow notepad and several files and papers. She looked up to see Lex being walked in by a guard, his hands cuffed behind his back. This time, he wore a white polo shirt and a pair of khakis. His head appeared to be newly shaved, and the flashes of the camera reflected off of it. He didn't look Hannah in the eye as he sat down, which made Hannah frown.

"How're you feeling?" Hannah whispered, leaning over to her friend.

Lex shrugged, and drummed his finger on the table. His breath seemed raged and shallow.

"When I question you Lex, you need to answer as honestly as you possibly can. It's for your own good, okay?"

"Sure," he replied half-heartedly as he leaned back in the chair.

He looked from side to side, shaking his head slowly. His tongue slid over his bottom lip, and he blinked a couple of times.

Hannah sighed, and aimlessly wrote her name on the top of her notepad. She watched the prosecutors walk in and sit down at their table that was several feet away from there's. One of them nodded curtly at her, which made Hannah's stomach flip.

His name was Stacy Morgan, and he was a popular lawyer that had one most every single case put up against him. The man looked intimidating with his neatly combed hair and clean shaven face. His eyes were narrow and gleamed evilly. He looked like an animal on the hunt, ready to kill its prey.

She felt like a captured animal right now, quivering and bracing itself for the pain to come. Stacy eyes were on her, which made the fear inside of her bubble up even more. A smile played across her lips, almost like a friendly gesture to them man who could easily crush her head. He didn't accept the gesture however for he frowned and shook his head at her.

Hannah looked up at the ceiling briefly, her lips trembling.

 _Dammit Jason, where are you?_

She shivered. The courtroom felt cold, and goosebumps popped up on her arms. She looked back over at Lex, who was also shivering.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently placing her hand on his hand.

Lex pulled her hand out from under her's and let out a deep sigh. It was just then that Hannah noticed dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"No."

Hannah frowned. Lex leaned over and placed his forehead on the table. A wave of sympathy washed over Hannah, which tempted her to cry. She thought back to years early when they were cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and talking about their hopes and dreams. She never imagined that they'd be sitting in a courtroom, nervously waiting for the judge to come in and start proceedings that could lead to one of them rotting in jail for the rest of their life.

The judge stalked in, her black robe crackling furiously.

"All rise," a man yelled.

Hannah and Lex jumped to their feet, and watched the judge in awe as she sat down.

"Be seated."

After everyone was settled, the judge started talking, recapping everything that had happened the day before. The excitement in the courthouse cooled down considerably, but the tension could still be sensed by everyone present.

Everything went smoothly. The prosecution got up, and rebutted Hannah's statement about Lex being insane. They tried to discredit the psychiatrist. Hannah nervously eyed the jury. Some of the members of the jury nodded in agreement, while a couple of them had suspicious frowns on their faces.

When the prosecution was done, Hannah took a deep breath as the judge called her up to the stand. She smiled at Lex quickly, threw he head back and strode across the stage. Trying to stop her trembling, she glanced up at the ceiling briefly.

 _Don't let me down, Jason. Don't let me down._

"To start off today's defense, I would like to call Mr. Alexander Luthor to the stand."

Everyone is the crowd immediately started chattering. The guard escorted Lex to the stand and swore him in.

"So, Mr. Luthor, I have a couple of question I would like to ask you."

"Go ahead," Lex mumbled, looking down at his hands.

"You understand why the prosecution is accusing you of planting a bomb in the Capitol building?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you remember the psychiatrists talking to you?"

"Yes."

"Did they treat you fairly?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Luthor, can I be direct with you?"

"Sure."

"Why did you plant a bomb in the Capitol building?"

Hannah licked her lips, and stared directly at her friend. Lex's face twitched.

 _Convince him to talk, Jason. Please. Don't let me down._

"I—I—"

"Yes?"

"Apocalypse is coming!"

The words tumbled off of Lex's lips, and he started panting when he finished. Hannah resisted the urge to smile.

"When will it come?"

"I—I don't know! It's not a time! It's not a set time!"

"What is Apocalypse?"

"A place!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's a place! I don't know how I could be clearer!"

Immediately, Hannah felt Jason's presence surround her. Her heart started beating triumphantly in her chest, and a surge of energy filled her. She stood tall and proud, and faced the judge.

Lex also felt something. He hunched over and put his head into his hands. Everyone could see the man trembling. He looked back up, and when he did, Hannah frowned. Two big tears fell out of Lex's eyes.

 _That's you Jason, isn't it?_

An immeasurable amount of fear was present in his eyes, which made everyone's hearts go out to him, accomplishing the impossible. Nobody would think that they would sympathize for someone who committed such an egregious crime, but the terror in his eyes practically confirmed that he was crazy. People would never feel sorry for a malicious, scheming criminal, but they would for someone who didn't have a hold of his own mind. Most people could never fathom losing their mind and that produces the upmost sympathy.

"How did you find out about this Apocalypse?"

"By the Mother-Box!"

"Mother-Box? What's that?"

"A box –that—I—I—"

Hannah turned towards the jury, a look of confidence on her face. She gestured to Lex, who was still shaking behind him. She then turned back to Lex and continued her questioning.

"So, what does a Mother-Box do?"

"It opens—It shows—It—it—it—"

Lex started to bang on his head, as if he was trying to remember something. Hannah pursed her lips.

"Mr. Luthor?"

"It shows me things! It shows me things—dangerous things!"

"What kind of dangerous things?"

Lex looked up at her, looking like a lost puppy.

"They've _seen_ us!"

"Who's seen us?"

"I—I—I—"

Hannah sighed, and placed her hands on her hips. She then turned to the jury.

"I regret having to say this. I truly do. Unfortunately, you have seen what the psychiatrist described. Mr. Alexander Luthor is clearly insane."

She turned back to Lex. His face had collapsed, and his fingers started banging on the arm rest. Hannah's stomach flipped. She could see the betrayal on his face. Although Lex knew that was what she was going to say, it still hurt him. It hurt him to watch his friend make him seem like a complete lunatic in front of the world.

 _This is what I have to do . . ._

Hannah nodded at him gently, and turned back to the jury.

"Insanity is a difficult thing is decipher. It's actually quite rare that someone gets off for insanity, but I believe that you," Hannah said, pointing at the jury "Have the power to change that. You have the power to change that. You have the power to recognize people that struggle with mental illness. It's not an easy thing to live with. It's hard to treat and it can eat away at you from the inside . . . Imagine that for a few seconds, will you? . . . Watching your mind get eroded away at by something so difficult to grasp . . . Can you imagine that? Think of how horrible and terrifying that must be!"

Hannah paused, looked down at her hands.

Someone could have heard a pin drop in the courtroom . . . Hannah looked out in the audience, searching for familiar faces. She immediately identified her parents, and next to them, Bruce and Alfred. For a brief second, she pictured Jason sitting next to Alfred, smiling and nodding encouragingly. She imagined his black hair falling in his face, his hands constantly pushing it out of the way. She could also see him chewing his lip, and shifting his weight from one side of him to the other.

Hannah smiled.

"Alexander Luthor is not an evil, malicious maniac that the prosecution is cutting him out to be . . . He is someone to sympathize with, not to look down upon . . . You can give him the help he needs! You can give him the opportunity to start on a path that can give him a healthy life! Think on that . . . Think on that please."

She turned to the judge, who nodded at her.

"We are going to have a brief recess. Be back in twenty minutes."

As the guard took Lex down from the witness stand, Hannah headed back to the table she and Lex had been sitting at. She smirked triumphantly at her mother, whose lips were pressed into a thin line.

"Hannah?"

She spun around, immediately recognizing the voice.

"Damian?"

There, standing in front of her, was Damian.

He was tidied up, and was wearing a sports coat, light blue shirt and a navy tie. His dark hair looked as if it had been combed early, but a few strands of it flopped in to his face.

"You're doing well."

"Oh—uh—thank you. What are you doing here, Damian? Did Sarah bring you?"

"No, I came by myself."

"You snuck out?"

"Yes."

His fingers ran up and down his tie, a peculiar action.

"You know how eccentric you are, right?" Hannah asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Excellent word choice."

Hannah sighed.

"Why'd you come?"

"Because you fascinate me, Hannah, and," he said confidently "I wanted to see the trial of the century. You really do have a way with words, don't you?"

"I went to school for this, so I'd better be good at it."

"I thought about being a lawyer at one point."

"But you changed your mind?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Damian cocked his head, and narrowed his eyes. He clinched his jaw for a second.

"I want to be a warrior," he finally said, lifting his chin proudly.

Hannah immediately felt Jason's presence surround her. She twitched uncomfortably. Damian was way too much like Jason. The pride in Damian's eyes was all too familiar, and made tons of memories got pulled out of the back of Hannah's mind.

 _"_ _What the hell, Jason?"_

 _Both Hannah and Jason looked up from their cards to stare at Bruce, who had just charged through the door. An obvious look of irritation graced across Bruce's face. Jason sighed, and put down his hand of cards._

 _He'd been trying to teach Hannah how to do magic tricks, which she failed at every single time. Well, it wasn't like they'd been trying much for every few seconds they started kissing, and would get majorly sidetracked._

 _"_ _What do you want, Bruce?" Jason grumbled, stretching out his hand and putting it behind Hannah's back._

 _Hannah shifted uncomfortably. Bruce made her feel nervous when he got made like this, which had been happening more often than not lately. For whatever reason, he and Jason were not getting along at all, and Jason wouldn't tell her why. Whenever she asked, Jason would just say that he didn't want to talk about it. Yes, it bothered Hannah, but she just assumed that he'd come around and tell her at some point. After all, they hadn't been together that long . . . Only three months so far._

 _When Bruce and Jason would start fighting, however, she wished she could sink between the cushions of the sofa and huddle under them until their fighting was done. Alas, that couldn't happen though, so she would just have to do something else._

 _"_ _I'll leave you two," she mumbled, jumping to her feet._

 _Jason quickly snatched her wrist though, and pulled her back down._

 _"_ _No. Stay. Bruce was just leaving."_

 _"_ _Don't give me any of your bullshit, Jason. I—"_

 _"_ _Guys, guys. There's no need to fight. It's—It's stupid. Now, Bruce. What're you mad about? Come on, let's act like adults and—"_

 _Bruce sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Little bits of grey were starting to appear at the roots, making Hannah think that he must be much stressed. Bruce wasn't that old, was he? It seemed like yesterday that he was a young, enthusiastic young adult with a lust for life so big, it could knock someone over._

 _"_ _Jason left the car unlocked."_

 _"_ _Oh."_

 _Hannah knew he was lying. Surely Bruce Wayne wouldn't be upset over something so trivial. She sighed, and leaned back on Jason. They were probably going to talk about it later, possibly screaming and yelling like little children. For some reason, it was too private to be said in front of her though._

 _"_ _Jason," she said, turning to face her boyfriend "Apologize."_

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _Apologize for leaving the car unlocked."_

 _Jason frowned, and looked deeply in her eyes. Hannah bit her lip, and resisted the urge to kiss him. His eyes were one of her favorite parts of him. Every time she looked into them, her heart went wild, sending the blood pounding through her veins._

 _"_ _Jason?"_

 _Her boyfriend lifted his chin up proudly, and turned to stare Bruce in the eyes. He looked stoic, like a warrior who could not be beaten at all. Everything about him reminded her of a dark knight from a fairy tale, enticingly dark and beautiful. A raging storm could be seen in his eyes, one that would not be giving into Bruce any time soon._

 _Bruce sighed, and shook his head._

 _"_ _Next time, lock the damn car," he said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest._

 _With that, he stalked out of the room. Hannah frowned._

 _"_ _Is it really that hard to apologize?"_

 _"_ _Yes."_

 _"_ _He's your Dad, Jason . . ."_

 _"_ _I know."_

 _He turned back to the cards, and idly flicked a few across the table. Hannah giggled, and repeated what he just did. Suddenly, Jason grabbed her face and planted a kiss on her lips. His thumbs ran up and down her cheek bones, something he did every time he kissed her._

 _"_ _You're absolutely amazing," he whispered, continuing to run his thumbs across her cheek bones._

 _She smiled._

"Do I remind you of someone?" Damian asked slowly.

"Uh—um—what?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do, and that's one of the reasons I like you so much."

"Was he precocious also?"

"Hah. A little bit. He was proud though . . . Extremely proud. Kind of like you."

"I believe it."

"Excuse me?" a voice called out.

Hannah spun around to see one of her paralegals, Tiffany, standing behind her. In her hand, she held an iPad.

"I'm sorry but we have only fifteen minutes till we're called back, Miss. Hochberg."

"Right, right," Hannah murmured absently.

She turned back to Damian.

"Okay, I have to go Damian. Do me a favor though. Go home. You can't just leave the home without permission like this!"

"You think I'm really going to listen to you?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you around."

With that, he turned around and walked towards the back of the court house.

"Who was that?" Tiffany asked.

"A friend," Hannah replied, as she watched Damian walk to the back and sit down.

"Well, no time to talk to friends. We're making history here."

Hannah sighed, and followed Tiffany to where Lex was. As much as she wanted to think about her strange friend, she had to save Lex's ass from sitting in prison for the rest of his life. She chewed her lip as she tried to pull her mind away from Damian.

 _Don't let me down, Jason. Don't let me down._

She walked back towards the table where Lex sat, looking like a miserable child, trying to be brave and not cry out in the dark.

"Well, well, well," he said as Hannah approached.

"You knew what I had to do."

"But I didn't think you would."

Hannah shrugged.

"I proved you wrong I guess."

Lex whipped his snotty nose with the back of his hand. He shivered, most likely from the chilly court room.

"You cold?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine."

"Okay. Stay calm. I think we're doing good."

She sat down next to him, and started scribbling questions down on her note pad. Next, she was going to question the prosecution's leading witness, who Lex apparently had asked to create a certain piece of machinery or something like that. He was obviously a crazy drunk, which was probably why Lex chose them. All she had to do is bust him open for being unreliable. How hard could that be?

 _Don't let me down, Jason. Don't let me down. I need you right now._

 **A/N:**

 **Hey Guys! Here's the next chapter! It's not my best, I know. I had to deal with a family emergency, so I didn't have a lot of time to edit and perfect it.**

 **For the first time ever, I based this chapter off a song. It's called** ** _Don't Let Me Down_** **by Chainsmokers. Most of you have probably heard it . . . It was a big hit.**

 **I won't be responding to reviews today. Sorry. I am super busy.**

 **Thanks for all the love and support! It means the world to me, especially in difficult times like this. 3**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	15. Chapter 15

_Dear Jason,_

 _Thank you for being here for me. I don't thank you enough. Yes, it's awful. I know. The fact is, you do so much for me, even though I can't see you. The last few days in basically court have proven that I'm serious about being a lawyer._

 _I am a professional. I am serious. And I am ready to take whatever gets thrown my way. I am not some silly socialite that lives off her Daddy and Mommy's money. I don't just sleep around and drink tequila all day. I am a working women, one who knows what she wants and is willing to chase it down with everything I want and need. Fighting life and limb is not scary to me; it's a necessity, a lifestyle I thrive on._

 _Thank you for showing me this, Jason. You showed me I can be strong and stand up tall, proud of who I am. Life will be good now. I can be confident and powerful. I can be peculiar, shooting far beyond the ordinary. I'm not ordinary, and I never have been. Whenever you're here with me, you're showing me this, every single time._

 _Thank you, Jason. You mean the world to me, you really do._

 _I love you, but I've realized something._

 _It's time to let you go._

 _You've been such a huge part of my life for so long, it's consumed me. You've consumed me, but you're not here anymore. I don't get my strength from you . . . I get it from myself. Yes, you showed me the strength inside of me, but you didn't give it to me. You just told me I needed to recognize it._

 _I'll always cherish the memories, okay? How could I not? I just can't live it as a memorial to you because I can't be happy that way. You've told me before you wanted me to be happy, and that's what I am now. It's not a cheerful happiness, it's a bittersweet one . . . One that was achieved with so much pain._

 _Bruce is your memorial, the way he risks his life daily to serve this city in the most unselfish way. Please take his life as enough in your honor._

 _Don't forget me, and I promise I won't forget you._

 _I guess this is goodbye then._

 _I loved you. I promise._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hannah Hochberg, Esquire_

"Not Guilty for reason of insanity."

The words rang throughout the courtroom, making people gasp. Hannah's mouth dropped and she turned to Lex, who had a small smile plastered on his face. Her smile was enormous though. She smiled up at the judge, who, despite herself, smiled back.

"I can't believe it!" Hannah whispered, clutching her hands up in front of her.

She resisted the urge to spin around and throw her hands up in the air. Instead, she raised her chin up, and walked over to the prosecutors and shook their hands cordially. The look of disappointment on their faces was evident, but Hannah didn't really care right now.

This was a moment she'd remember for a lifetime, the one where she proved to everyone who she was. She wasn't little Hannah Hochberg, the socialite. She was Hannah Hochberg, Esquire, a lawyer that would be remembered for centuries.

All the camera around her clicked and reporters chattered loudly. Tiffany jumped over to her side, and linked arms with her, a cheeky smile on her face.

"You did it!" she exclaimed giddily "You did it!"

"I did," Hannah replied proudly, lifting her chin up even higher.

The amount of pride that surged through Hannah made her feel ridiculously high in the best way possible. She felt rewarded, and that all her hard work paid off. The best part was that it was all her, not anyone else.

All her.

She walked back over to Lex, and grabbed his hand. He wasn't smiling now, but she could tell he was relieved.

"Thank you, Hannah," he said softly, his voice a quiet whisper.

"That's what friends are for," Hannah replied in the same voice as Lex's.

She prayed that he could see how much she cared for him in her eyes for they glowed with kindness and relief. A few tears pooled up in the corners of her eyes, but she pulled them back.

This wasn't the time to cry.

This was her glory, her time to shine brighter than anyone else.

Yeah, it was arrogant of her. She was acting haughtier than she'd ever acted before, but she deserved it. She deserved this amazing feeling coursing through her veins, setting her on fire.

Many reporters and journalists charged her, holding out microphones and recording devices, but several security guards jumped in the way, and blocked them. Hannah ignored them, raising herself on her tip toes to look for her parents.

At first, she couldn't spot them, but then she saw her Dad, raising his hand up high over the crowd. He pushed through the people, but was then held back by a security guard.

"Let him through," Hannah called, gesturing for the guard to let him pass.

The guard obeyed, and her Dad and Mom pulled through.

"Hannah, honey! Wow! Look at you!" Abraham called proudly, pulling his daughter into a bear hug.

Her Mom just beamed proudly, watching her husband and daughter embrace.

"I deserve this," she whispered jokingly, causing her father to laugh "It was a hell of a lot of work and I had to put up with a whole lot of bullshit."

A security guard the grabbed her arm, and Lex's and escorted her out of the room. She was followed closely by Tiffany, her parents, and several other security guards.

Her heart still rattled loudly in her chest, and a giddy smile was still pinned on her face.

This was the greatest moment of her existence and she didn't want to forget it.

The day was a long one.

There were several interviews, and people pulling at her from all sides. She barely had time to breath, let alone take a well-deserved nap. Although this moment was amazing, her whole body ached mercilessly and she wanted nothing more than to go to her room and sleep this all off to start celebrating the next day.

However, this was too big of a deal for her to be left alone, so she went and faced several more reporters. The looks of awe on everyone's faces was astounding, and made her heart beat even faster than it already was. She could hear a rushing sound in her ears, and when she placed her hand on her cheek briefly, she could tell that it was flushed as red as a tomato.

Finally, she got a break. She asked to be taken back to see Lex, who was sitting in the holding room.

It was exciting.

This was the first time she'd be able to talk to him without the fear of camera watching them or people recording it and releasing it to the press. She could now talk to her best friend, the person she'd stuck next to and pulled through.

He was sitting all by himself, no handcuffs around his wrist. There wasn't a smile on his face, but she could tell he was relieved.

"So," Hannah said, sitting down next to him "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," Lex answered slowly, shaking his head "Guess I'm not going to jail today, huh?"

"No, you're not."

"But isn't Arkham just as bad?"

"You don't know that you're going to."

"The Bat said I was."

Hannah cursed silently under her breath. Of course Bruce harassed Lex. He was Batman, and had to make a big show of it.

"Did he threaten you?"

"Of course he did. He said I was going to Arkham."

"He doesn't know that."

Lex laughed bitterly.

"Hannah, I got off for because the jury thought I was insane. Where do the insane people go to, huh? Where's they go to?"

"Arkham, but you could go somewhere else."

"I don't want to go somewhere else. I wanted to be free, but you didn't believe me."

Hannah bit down on her lip, and shuddered. The elated feeling she felt earlier rushed out of her body, leaving her sad and tired. Lex was right.

Yes, this case was a lifetime of glory for her, but for Lex, it was a life of sitting behind bars, lonely and anxious, wondering if he'd ever get out. She wasn't sympathetic . . . She felt guilty, almost as guilty as Lex probably felt about what went down that fateful day.

"Your name is cleared though. People don't think you did it maliciously."

"But I did do it maliciously. I did it maliciously, but it was to protect this planet, this city, and the people I care about the most."

Hannah groaned, and flopped back onto her seat.

"What do you want me to do, Lex?"

"Nothing. This is my fate, and this is your fate. You just got the better end."

"That's not why I did this."

"Of course it isn't, but it's given you an amazing life. Take it and enjoy it. God knows you deserve it."

Tears startled to trickle out of Hannah's eyes.

"Oh, Lex—" she murmured sadly, whipping her eye clean.

Lex smiled, and jumped to his feet, pulling his friend into a hug. He shuddered, and pulled her closer to him. She wrapped his arms around him, silently saying goodbye to her best friend in the entire world.

"I'll be able to take it," Lex finally said as they broke apart "Because I'll know that my best friend is a hero now, and will be known by generations of people as one of the greatest people to ever live."

"Greater than you?" Hannah whispered.

"They don't need to know that, do they?"

"I suppose not."

"Why are you still here? Go, enjoy your life. Hell, it's going to be amazing."

"But—"

"Go crush some more cases. Go inspire some more people. Go find a guy that loves you and wants to start a family with you."

"Maybe I'll name a kid after you."

"Hell no! You'll get put in Arkham too."

They both laughed bitterly, drying the tears that were pouring down their faces. Smiles tugged at the corners of their mouths, making them both feel a little bit better than before. The gloomy feeling in the air was still evident, but at least they knew one thing: that they'd be friend forever . . . Just not together.

"Well, this is goodbye then?" Hannah asked, pushing a stand of hair out of her dewy eyes.

"Yeah."

"Okay then. Goodbye, Lex."

"Goodbye, Hannah."

She slowly turned, and headed towards the door. She stopped, however, putting her hand on the wooden door frame, and turned around to look at her friend one more time. He wasn't crying anymore, but he seemed broken. A brave smile was on his face, and he nodded at her, telling her to leave, so she obeyed.

It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, leaving Lex in that room all alone. Orders from the judge to send him to Arkham should be coming soon, but it was out of her hands now. She'd done her job. He was blameless in the eyes of the law.

When she walked down the hall, she was greeted by a guard, who told her several reporters were waiting for her outside, looking for an official statement. Hannah checked her appearance in her iPhone camera, and nodded bravely. As soon as she stepped outside, cameras started flashing brightly in her face. She shielded her eyes, stepping up to the several microphones waiting for her.

"Today was a momentous day," she started, holding her had up high "Things could not have gone better for I and Mr. Luthor. As far as what happens to him after this, I don't know. I can assure you however that whatever is done will be in his best interest. Thank you."

As she stepped back, people peppered her with more questions, but she ignored them as she stepped into the car waiting for her. Police sirens wailed loudly as an escort led her out of Gotham and to her parent's country house, a couple dozen miles outside of the city.

The ride was ridden in silence, except for the occasional hiccup from one of the security guards. She smiled at him every time he did it, however, so he wouldn't feel too bad. All the guards looked terrified of her, but then again, she didn't want to worry about that exactly.

When they pulled up to the house, a familiar looking car was waiting in the drive way. Hannah raised her eyebrows as she stepped inside the house, ignoring the paparazzi camera flashes.

Her parents were waiting inside.

"Hannah, someone is here to see you," her Mom told her, squeezing her arm comfortingly.

"Who?"

"Go ahead and see. He's in the living room."

Hannah nodded, and walked into the living room. There, staring out one of the gorgeous windows looking out into the luscious back yard, was Bruce Wayne.

"Bruce?"

He turned to her, and smiled.

"You were brilliant," he said.

"Thank you."

He stood up tall, in the proud Wayne manner, His slightly graying hair was combed neatly, and his dark eyes sparkled mercilessly. Like Hannah, his chin was lifted up high, and a somewhat smug look of confidence was on his face. The look dropped temporarily, however, when she took a few steps forward.

"What do you want?"

Bruce took a few steps forward, and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the leather couch.

"What you did was great, Hannah. It was so extraordinary. I'm proud of you—"

"Thanks, but I don't—"

"Life is going to get insane for you. You've been propelled to a level most people don't ever live to feel in their lives, but you've reached it. That being said, I want to offer my help, if you ever need it. I'm at you beck and call."

"What can you do for me?"

"I can't do anything, but I know someone who can."

He leaned forward, his eyes staring straight into hers. Her heart started pounding as she realized what he meant.

The Bat.

The Bat would protect her if she needed it.

Not only did she make history publically, she made it privately, being the first human to ever get to Bat's full out protection.

"He will drop anything he's doing if you need him by your side."

He squeezed her hand tightly, causing her knuckles to go white.

"What if he's fighting a villain or something crazy like that?"

Bruce smiled softly.

"He has his ways."

Hannah swallowed, and smiled back at him.

"Thank you, Bruce," she whispered "I'll keep that in mind."

She then leaned forward, and planted a kiss on his cheek. As she pulled back, she got a whiff of his cologne, which made something inside of her shudder. This man was powerful, but she didn't need his protection. Then again, she decided to file away his offer for a rainy day.

They stood to their feet, and he left, walking out in strong strides. Her Dad appeared in the doorway, a slight frown on his face.

"What did Bruce want?" he asked curiously, scratching the side of his head.

"He just wanted to say congrats," Hannah replied smoothly, smiling at her Dad.

He scoffed, and shook his head.

"Dad!" Hannah yelled.

She snatched a pillow off the couch, and hurled it at him. They both started laughing at each other. She flopped back down on the couch, and shut her eyes for a brief second.

Except the brief second lasted a lot longer . . .

She slept.

 **A/N:**

 **Ah, yes my friend! This story is almost over! There will be a quick epilogue that will also serve as a link to the next sequel, which will hopefully start being published in a couple of weeks. No promises though.**

 **I would like to thank everyone who read this, particularly Aurora Nightstar, who faithfully review my story. Her kind comments made me so happy.**

 **This story meant a lot to me, and I hope you all loved it!**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	16. Chapter 16

_Two Months Later . . ._

Hannah stepped out of the car, her messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She ran her fingers through her hair, and stared up at the graceful arches of Wayne Manor. Her steps to the front door were rapid, then, when she reached it, she didn't bother knocking. Pulling a key from her bag, she slipped it in the key hole, and twisted it. Once the door swung open, she stepped inside.

It was lighter compared to the dark skies outside, which was similar to the night Hannah first came to the country manor after Jason's death. It was quiet . . . If somebody dropped a needle, it could be heard.

She wandered towards the living room, looking at all the old pictures on the wall. A small smile crossed her face.

"Hey."

She spun around to see a familiar face, standing a few feet behind her.

"Barry. Hi!"

"So, congrats on the trial."

"Thank you."

She smiled at the slightly younger man, who was shuffling around nervously.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to yell like I did last time."

Barry laughed quietly. He shook his head slightly and stepped forward.

"You came to visit Bruce too? Being the Flash and all?"

"We're forming a league."

"A league?"

"Yeah. It's called the Justice League," Barry said nervously "Guess it must sound stupid to you."

"No," Hannah said softly, putting her hands on his shoulders "I think it sounds amazing."

Barry smiled back at her, and Hannah pulled him into a hug. She felt bad for pulling him into this situation in the first place with the batarang. Something inside of her asked her to say sorry to the guy, but she held it back for some reason. When they pulled apart, he was still smiling. She reached down and touched her bag instinctively.

"Well, I gotta go," he said "You probably want to see Bruce."

He adjusted his jacket around him, and then he was gone in a flash. A gust of air hit her a second after he left. She continued walking, her hands carefully covering her bag.

She walked into the living room, her eyes looking around for Alfred. He wasn't there. The fireplace was crackling, making the room fill up with a deliciously smoky smell. She headed towards it, her hand reaching into the bag.

She pulled out a bundle of letters, one that she'd written throughout the process. Gingerly opening them all, she scanned through the pages, reading the heartfelt words she'd written. The ink was smudged from the tear she cried, and the handwriting was sloppy from her shaking hands.

Taking a deep breath, she folded them back up, squeezing them tightly in her hands.

These letters were a part of her life . . . narrating the good and the bad times of what seemed like an impossible season of her life. She got through it though. She was strong, and she fought her way out of it.

The thing is, she didn't need Jason's help anymore.

Tears slid out of her eyes as she tossed the letters into a fire. They crackled at contact, and immediately folded in, the edges turning black.

"Hope you're not burning anything illegal."

Hannah scoffed.

"Like you've never done anything illegal in your life."

Bruce laughed to himself.

"You're a riot."

Hannah dried her eyes, and turned to face him. Standing a few feet behind him was Diana, tall and beautiful.

"Hannah, may I introduce you to my friend, Diana?"

"Wonder Woman," Hannah whispered, offering the other women her hand.

Diana shook it readily, a small smile on her lips.

"I should leave you too," she told Bruce, turning towards the door.

With that, she was gone.

Hannah sighed, and looked at the fire once again. The letters were gone for good.

"What was that?" Bruce asked, standing by her side.

"The past," she replied quickly, holding her head up high.

"I'm glad you put it behind you."

"Me too."

She looked up into the man's face, and gently put her hand on his cheek. It was rough, and evidently hadn't been shaved in a couple days.

"Take care of yourself, Bruce. Gotham needs you."

"I have a feeling you'll be able to help with that."

Hannah laughed.

"It depends. I'll have to see how things go. Excuse me, I have something I need to do. Send my love to Alfred."

She fled for the door, her heart racing in her chest. She jumped back into her car, pressed on the gas, and speed off towards Gotham. There was something she needed to take care of, to finalize. She giggled with excitement, making her car zoom faster.

Once she reached Gotham, she parked in front of the orphanage. Looking up at the urban building, she took a deep breath.

She was entering a new chapter of her life, one that would alter the way everything was. Yes, the trial changed her a lot, but someone else had changed her life a million times more than the trial ever would.

This was her new life now. He was her new life.

Ah, this new chapter would be a good one.

Walking inside the building, Sarah greeted her.

"Believe it or not, I knew this was going to happen the moment I saw you at the gala," the older woman told Hannah, her voice filled with happiness.

"Really?" Hannah laughed, her smile lighting up the room.

"I believe that some people are drawn together for a purpose. You guys are each other's purpose."

"I believe that too."

"It's not going to be easy, okay? Life never is, but you can take it."

Hannah nodded as she heard footsteps coming towards her. She looked up to see him, his face riddled with confusion.

"Hannah?" Damian asked "What're you doing here?"

She walked over towards him, and pulled him into a hug. Much to her surprise, Damian relaxed into it, and hugged her back.

"Pack your bags, kiddo. You're coming home with me."

"What?"

"You're coming home with me. This orphanage isn't good for you Damian, so that's why I'm adopting you."

Damian's face lit up unlike she'd ever seen it do before.

"Really?"

"Yeah . . . Get ready. I want you to come and meet your new family."

 **A/N:**

 **This is the first fanfiction I have ever completed, so it holds a special place in my heart. Hannah means so much to me and I hope she means the same to you. Although a lot of blood and sweat went into this story, I believe that it was worth it. I hope you all enjoyed it.**

 **Hannah, Bruce, Damian and the gang will be returning in a SEQUEL. I am not sure when the first chapter will be published, but hopefully it won't be too long. Stay tuned for more info, or follow** ** _gotmoreissuesthanvogue_** **(me) and you should get a notification when it gets published.**

 **Thank you all for the lovely reviews. They meant the world to be.**

 **Till next time.**

 **Much Love,**

 **gotmoreissuesthanvogue**


	17. SEQUEL UPDATE!

Hey Everyone!

Gosh, it's been a while!

As you know, I have been planning a sequel for a little but its been a slow process. I have other stories (fanfiction and original works) as well as a lot of school related things going on in life. I'd really love to be able to update regularly, but I cannot promise anything. I want to read all the updates of the stories I follow before I publish some more. I owe them that.

However, chapter one of the Letters to Robin sequel is almost here. I think you'll enjoy it. It takes place a couple years later with Hannah, Bruce, and Damian trying to form a family together. Unfortunately, it's not easy, especially since Bruce is a constant reminder of Jason Todd. A mysterious vigilante called the Red Hood shows up though, and will change the life they've created. The question is what life will Hannah chose? The one Bruce has worked hard to maintain for her or the even more dangerous one in the shadow of the new hooded figure?

Well, you'll have to tune in and see! ;)

Much Love,

gotmoreissuesthanvogue


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